Quickie Piccie

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Sorry, dog. I do not share my bacon, not even with my husband.

Tegan is growing.  She’s about a half-inch away from being able to jump on the couch herself.  This could be problematic.  She’s even starting to lose her baby face–we’re starting to see Grown-Up Tegan.

At this moment, she is playing an odd game of fetch with herself.  One toy (a Mr. Bill doll) is on one side of the living room.  Another toy (a giant red lobster) is on the other side of the room.  For the last ten minutes, she’s been pouncing on one toy and furiously attacking it for about fifteen seconds, then racing away to the other toy and attacking that one for a few seconds.  Repeat over and over and over.

I’m waiting for her to squeeze Mr. Bill’s voice box.  She doesn’t like it when he goes OH NOOOOOOO.  She drops him and barks at him like “YOU SCARED ME, YOU SONOFABITCH!”  And then she goes right back to chewing and shaking him.  It’s pretty hilarious.

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