It seemed like the perfect toy: a hand-puppet with extra padding and a squeaky, so that Parker could play with our hands and (a) not really compute that hands are involved and (b) not bite our hands to shreds. When finished with the toy, we put it back in Parker's toy basket.
Well, last night, Parker decided to play with the toy, and as is his wont, he disemboweled it:
Maybe if it had a Kevlar coating it might have lasted longer...
It turns out, despite a brief plateau in January, Parker continues to grow by about 600 g per week. He's now up to 22.4 kg:
I feel much better now about getting him the "large breed" puppy food. But he still seems so small next to the labs at the play group...
Ordinarily I would not be happy to wake up at 5:15am. Today, however, I was overjoyed, because except for a brief moment around 1:30 when I had to shove Parker's fuzzy butt out of my space (he was laying across the bed almost completely), we both slept through the night.
My hypothesis from yesterday confirmed, I will now spend at least an hour a night running him ragged. It probably helped also that everyone—and I mean, everyone—was at last night's play group: Boo, Scotchie, Hannah, Dexter, Buck, Tucker, Rhea, Tinkerbella, Ross, Finnegan, and the little frumpy dog whose name I can never remember were all there. If Parker's buddies Paris and Brumley had been there, I think we wouldn't have left.
I love Parker. Who wouldn't? I mean, look at him, sleeping so peacefully:
But last night around 2:30am he was neither peaceful nor adorable. In fact, from 2:30 until about 4:30, he whined, chewed my comforter, squeaked a toy repeatedly, barked at random intervals, and went outside twice—without actually descending the stairs into the yard.
By the way, this is the second night in a row that Parker has confused 2:30 with 6:00. If he does it again tonight, I don't know what I'll do, since killing him seems like a bad option.
Actually, I think he's just anxious. He's in a new place, his routine is all messed up (even though I've dilligently gotten my butt, and his, to the play group every morning at 6:30, including yesterday when it was -16°C outside), and he spends all day sleeping.
I hope against all reason that he gets more comfortable in his new home. Tonight, after the 6pm play group, I think we'll just hang out at home and play. In fact, I think we will play non-stop for three hours, until his little beady eyes are rolling from exhaustion and he collapses in a fuzzy ball at the foot of my bed to sleep, like a puppy, through the entire damned night.