LW is 12 weeks old. Let’s see: 1 calendar year = 7 dog years; 12 weeks is 3 months, 7 divided by 3 equals 2.3 dog years. Yes, by doing simple math, one can confirm she is definitely in her “terrible twos!!” OK, so maybe we didn’t need to do the math to come to this realization. Perhaps the events of the last day are adequate proof:
6:30 a.m.: LW sounds her alarm, greeting me with a tail wag and a nibble on the hand as I retrieve her from the crate in which she slept. After a quick trip outside to empty, its back inside for some breakfast. While this sounds simple enough, along the way, she is distracted by something and is off and running around the yard. Soon tiring of this game, she heads back carrying a rock and two sticks. I am now faced with the task of removing these new “treasures” from the unyielding mouth of an alligator. After prying her mouth open, I am finally successful at getting her to respond to the “out” command. She drops the sticks but hides her archaeological find (the rock) in her mouth only to release this special prize at the sight of her kibble.
After a quick meal, four little, furry feet start to scamper (like Fred Flintstone starting his car) After all, there are things to do! First, she goes right for my sneaker, which luckily I can retrieve and place back in the closet (for safe keeping). Upon completing that, I look up in time to see a black tornado swirling past with slippers, which I am sure were placed in a safe hidden spot. As I am returning the slippers, there’s a growl from the kitchen; this can mean only one thing; in a surprise attack, she has bounced on Orlando! So, I am off and running to rescue him; however, upon my arrival there’s a sound from the porch, and I whirl around just in time to see a lamp and picture frame hit the floor. While inspecting this situation, I also see she has learned to climb up on the sofa and jump across to the end table; and naturally it makes perfect sense to a budding two year old to clear everything from the table (as it makes the perfect lookout tower) and make room to lie down. Trying not to laugh, I found my deepest voice and yelled: OFFF!! This time, she promptly listens, but not before grabbing the remote for a quick trip under the couch. It is now 7:30, and I am exhausted!
While catching my breath, I am reminded of something I once read: “…you should always remember that your child isn't trying to be defiant or rebellious on purpose. He is just trying to express his growing independence and doesn't have the language skills to easily express his needs…”
6:30 a.m.: LW sounds her alarm, greeting me with a tail wag and a nibble on the hand as I retrieve her from the crate in which she slept. After a quick trip outside to empty, its back inside for some breakfast. While this sounds simple enough, along the way, she is distracted by something and is off and running around the yard. Soon tiring of this game, she heads back carrying a rock and two sticks. I am now faced with the task of removing these new “treasures” from the unyielding mouth of an alligator. After prying her mouth open, I am finally successful at getting her to respond to the “out” command. She drops the sticks but hides her archaeological find (the rock) in her mouth only to release this special prize at the sight of her kibble.
After a quick meal, four little, furry feet start to scamper (like Fred Flintstone starting his car) After all, there are things to do! First, she goes right for my sneaker, which luckily I can retrieve and place back in the closet (for safe keeping). Upon completing that, I look up in time to see a black tornado swirling past with slippers, which I am sure were placed in a safe hidden spot. As I am returning the slippers, there’s a growl from the kitchen; this can mean only one thing; in a surprise attack, she has bounced on Orlando! So, I am off and running to rescue him; however, upon my arrival there’s a sound from the porch, and I whirl around just in time to see a lamp and picture frame hit the floor. While inspecting this situation, I also see she has learned to climb up on the sofa and jump across to the end table; and naturally it makes perfect sense to a budding two year old to clear everything from the table (as it makes the perfect lookout tower) and make room to lie down. Trying not to laugh, I found my deepest voice and yelled: OFFF!! This time, she promptly listens, but not before grabbing the remote for a quick trip under the couch. It is now 7:30, and I am exhausted!
While catching my breath, I am reminded of something I once read: “…you should always remember that your child isn't trying to be defiant or rebellious on purpose. He is just trying to express his growing independence and doesn't have the language skills to easily express his needs…”
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