As Hagar continues to grow and his puppy teeth give way to the adult versions, so goes the change from sweet puppy breath to “can you guess what I had for dinner/what I found out in the yard, slurp, slurp???”
He continues to comic stretching of limbs and trunk, and currently looks more like a greyhound than a Berner, though I know that won’t last long.
The hair along his spine is turning into real dog hair, as opposed to puppy fuzz, and he is showing the early signs of the Garfunkle head – that period in a Berner’s growth when the hair at the top of their head sticks up and out and resembles nothing so much as Art G did back in the day.
Duffy is now acting much like a put-upon older sister – “Mom, do I *have* to play with this little brat? Oh, oooookay, sigh.” The rest of the dogs are adjusting little by little, learning to simply turn away or sidestep when he comes barreling at them. And he does love to run.
He had his first part of a turkey neck a couple of weeks ago. It’s hard to hold onto the neck when all the other dogs are home and would like a piece of it. But he’s learning and it won’t be long before he is on a diet that I control the contents. His enthusiasm for that raw meat, even mostly frozen, was almost comical – but he is very good at bringing a smile to my face. Sometimes I have to recover from the horror of what he has just done, first (okay, not really horror, but certainly dismay has been part of the equation more than once), but I find my grin mirroring his.
As far as Hagar is concerned, he’s King of the World. I’m not about to suggest otherwise.