Meet Mini — a twelve-week-old Newfoundland puppy.

At the time of her induction into our Tribe, she was twelve weeks old and weighed in at 13 kg (around 28 lbs).  That was a week ago–since then she’s been very busy growing.  It’s what she does best.  That, and winning hearts.  She is a sweetie.  I’m not a dog person, but who can turn their back on a puppy?  Even if she is bigger than New Jersey.

It’s hard to tell whether she likes to ride in a car… She never wants to go, but  I think she just doesn’t like being picked up.  At the rate she’s growing, it won’t be long before she can get into the car on her own.  Meanwhile, Adam’s ailing back is taking a beating.

Mini is a Newfoundland, in case it isn’t already obvious.  I’m thinking she will live up to her name simply by being the size of a  Volkswagon when she’s fully grown.  She’s still a little clumsy, occasionally tripping over her own feet when she’s in a hurry.  But, then, who am I to criticise?  Apparently Newfies aren’t supposed to do a lot of exercise while they’re pups.  The breeder said that her bones are still soft and she will grow so fast that the muscles will struggle to keep up at first.  Something like that, anyway.  She has her moments of being very frisky and playful, but more of her time is spent napping.  She is most playful — dare I say insistent? — at 6:00 a.m., which Adam is thrilled to death about.   He loves being poked in the face at that hour.

It turns out that Pigeon — the Cat Devil —  is not a fan.  Mostly he tries to ignore Mini, but when she insists on being buddies, Pigeon resorts to the usual hissing and paw full of claws routine.  For whatever reason, he seems immune to her adorableness.  I don’t think she understands that, given that absolutely everyone else who has met her has fallen instantly under her spell.  Time will tell, I suppose…  I await the day when Pigeon just walks under Mini… As if she were a table, or a bridge.  Mini’s favourite toy at the moment seems to be a stuffed cat, which she shakes the begeezus out of.  I hope Pigeon is noticing.

I bought her a rawhide donut, thinking it would be a handy size and shape for her to gnaw on.  It was a big success, until she decided to float it in her water bowl.  Not only did it become revoltingly soft and slimy, but a part of it was detached from the rest, and  looks like…no! I can’t describe it.  At least I won’t describe it…  Take my word for it–you don’t want to know.

So, now I’m picking up dog poop…something I swore I would never, ever do.  Never say never …              MM