The look that says, "You disgust me."

At least, that's what I think of when his upper lip gets stuck on his teeth like that. Sometimes it's weird to think of me as a "dog owner." I don't compare myself to the nutters in "Best in Show" by any means, and nor do I talk of my dog like he's my child. I do feel protective of him though, and I do think he has a personality. Here, for instance, he's saying, "Now why aren't you down here playing with me? Pah! Do you honestly think I enjoy mutilating hand-knit wool socks by myself?"

Yes, Graham, yes I do.

It's a bit of a trip to look at pictures of him from the summer and see how much he's grown. Not taller, but more in the girth department. He's not a chunky dog, by any means, but he's a far cry now from the lean puppy who chewed an entire t-bone into submission (and when I say t-bone, I don't mean I gave him a steak--I mean he actually ate a bone) in Chuck and Ginger's backyard this past summer.

Today he's nine months old and looking more like a grown-up. Sometimes I think having a dog isn't worth the effort. But then he does something completely goofy, and it's almost worth it. He's certainly no picnic though.

On an unrelated note, it's a shame I'm spending my last free weekend holed up in my room with a headache and sore shins watching "Doctor Who: Confidential." I take that back. Seeing Ood break-dancing is a joy forever.