3 Months Old

Dear Cubby,

So now you're three months old.  I see you growing up more each day.  You outgrew your little carrier.  Then you outgrew your sleep crate.  Soon you'll outgrow your first collar.  You're more mischievous with each passing day, and I just love you all the more.

You're almost done with your puppy shots; just three more weeks and we'll get you all finished up, neutered, and ready to hit the training trail.  You already have a good start on it.  You know how to sit, and have a pretty good understanding of come, stay, off, leave-it, take-it, no-barking, and no-bite.  (Now, whether or not you actually obey the commands is anyone's guess.)  I know you're just a baby who has only had his eyes open to this big wide world for a short time, so I'm trying not to over-expect.  But the time to teach you is now, before you set any bad habits in stone.  That's why I'm strict with you, Cubby.

You don't understand why I won't let you chew on furniture, or eat before Sophie eats, or jump up on people.  Toilet paper and cardboard and big globs of grass you pull up seem like the most wonderful things in all the world, and I take them away from you, right out of your mouth.  Aw, Baby Dog, I wish you could understand why.  Maybe you will someday.

I sure wish you'd get over your obsession with food.  That bugs me more than anything.  You're not going to like it when I get progressively sticky about that but you absolutely must learn extreme self-control or you'll never make it as a service dog.  Something tells me that'll be a work in progress for months to come.

For the most part, big sister Sophie lets you get away with an awful lot but I'm glad to see she's finally standing up for herself.  It's about time; she does outrank you, y'know.

So here we go into month #4 ... may it be a blessing for both of us.  I love you, Cubbs.