Amelia is growing up. And I mean that in all ways. To begin with, she is just getting bigger. At six months our terriers can now walk under her without stooping or crawling. She is long in the leg and now just beginning to fill out through the head and neck. She’s still long and narrow mostly. Her puppy belly is a thing of the past but she’s added a small layer of “insulation” against the chilly winter weather that is all she’s known. She still has the face of a puppy but it’s broadening to the point that we can begin to see the dog she will become. Her personality is developing too. She’s showing a strong streak of loyalty and she’s becoming a fierce protector of house and hearth. And her brother Cooper, especially her brother Cooper. She’s still determinedly independent but is equally likely to be in my lap while I office from home as she is to be alone in the armchair by the big front room window. She’s happiest when we’re all at home. Shari is a stay at home doggo mom so Amelia is rarely without human companionship but weekends and days I work from the home office are her favorites by a long shot.
She is at a fun age. She still has all of the puppy exuberance and naughtiness but she now pretty much knows when she’s being silly-naughty and not destructive-naughty and she owns it pushing it until Boo, Cooper or Shari remind her that there are limits even for her. As she’s grown she’s become surer of herself physically, more agile, energetic and playful. After dinner play is a must if a good night’s sleep is to be had by anyone. She’s not very particular about her toys, she is a part of a house that has a lot, a whole lot, of toys. But she has a few standbys. An early favorite, Platypus, has fallen out of favor for the new “baby’ she got for Christmas, Otter in a Stocking Cap. But “baby” is not really for play, she learned from her brother Cooper that the designated “baby’ is for comfort and cuddling. At playtime, she prefers chasing her tennis ball, squeaking the stuffed critters that came with the stuffed tree stump or tug-of-war. In a pinch, her back feet are particularly interesting and somewhat vexing to her. She’s known to lay on the bed and give those uppity feet the side-eye just before attacking them and putting them back in their rightful place. She often takes that opportunity to check to make sure her tail is still back there where it’s supposed to be. One morning we were playing on the bed and I did the old got-your-tail routine with her. Her mouth dropped open. She looked around. As the panic began to settle over her, I quickly returned it. She’s never been quite the same since she discovered the world is full of magic. And that some of its dark.
Whatever the method of distraction you can rest assured that when it’s playtime she is unabashed about bringing over a toy and pushing against your leg or chest or head or face until you also know it’s playtime.
She is also very helpful. We’ve taken to calling her MeMe as a shorthand for Amelia. Often as not our house rings with someone shouting “not MeMe’s” as she’s running around the house with a sock, a slipper or Cooper’s “baby”. But she’s also been known to look at us with great concern when Cooper takes her “baby”… the words “it’s MeMe’s, it’s MeMe’s” clearly behind the frantic expression.
In spite of her new long in the leg stature she still doesn’t know she can jump on the bed, the stairs must be used to get on and to get off. However, I’ve watched her many times at night when she thinks everyone is asleep slowly and quietly sliding down the stairs on her belly, back legs straight out behind her so as not to disturb or awaken anyone as she goes about whatever business she goes about in the middle of the night.
Since we have the doggy doors in the bedroom and on the porch, MeMe often takes advantage of those surreptitious and clandestine trips in the night to slip outside with us none the wiser. But we always know when she returns from her prowls. She makes sure. The weather has been a particularly onerous brand of freezing hell in Ohio this winter. Luckily all of that stays outside. However, MeMe doesn’t. And when she does return to our cozy, toasty bed, everyone all cuddled up warm and dry, she announces herself with cold wet feet to the chest and a cold wet nose to neck. Of course, she is only being considerate. Just knowing that we’ve been wracked with worry over her whereabouts she is merely waking us from our dead sleep to let us know she’s home. She also wants a hug and for Shari to sing her the song she so recklessly taught her as a pup… “is your Noses Coldses? Oh, are your Toeses Coldses? Aw Poor Baby. Your noses is coldeses and your toeses are coldeses.”
And yes, in spite of it all she is still her Mom’s Sweet Pea, my Sweet Girl, and everyone’s MeMe.