understanding (n.)

I'm gearing up for a post on the state of mental health services in America.  Because, you know, obviously, (she said tongue in cheek) I'm the foremost authority.  (So, so ... not the foremost authority).  My thoughts are scattered though and I'm wondering how much to really share.  How much is enough to be authentic, but discreet enough to protect my agency and my consumers?  No genie in the bottle here, so while I wrestle, I'll share with you how big our darling Rosie has gotten.



We had our first snow weeks ago.  Rosie is a huge fan.  She likes burrowing, catching snow balls, sniffing and begs (BEGS) to slide down the hill with the little kids at the park near our house.  Of course, we don't let her do this as she would pin small children down and slay them with her 30 pounds of unbridled excitement.


Our new house.  Our new house from 1959.  O,  the work we have to do.  Rosie has decided that having her front half hang off the book shelf and her back half hang off the couch is quite luxurious.  We really shouldn't let her do this, but, you see, it keeps her occupied.  And keeping her occupied is worth its weight in gold.  She managed to take down that Christmas tree.  Twice.



But we forgive her for things like that because she is still such a puppy.  A BIG puppy, but a sweet snuggly girl just the same.



Snuggly still.



And on her favorite perch by the window.

Don't let her fool you, though.  She is still naughty.  And I mean, Naughty.
Puppy classes start 1/15.
I'm a little worried.
Ok.
A lot worried.

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