Yesterday, Toven snuggled. Hardcore. He crawled under the blanket with Kevin and fell asleep in his armpit while Kevin massaged his ears.
And this morning, he came into the bathroom while I was doing my hair and rubbed my legs (instead of biting me).
I think he’s sick or something.
Opened the bedroom door this morning and saw little brown stuff all over the floor. Without my glasses on, I thought Toven had tracked shit from the litter box all over the living room.
Nope. Put on my glasses and it was the remains of a roach. Legs here, torso there….pieces everywhere…
Toven looked so proud. We gave his a treat and some extra kibble for breakfast. Thank you, little roach hunter! But next time, just eat all of it.
For years, we’ve been inundated with the “fact” that one human year is equal to seven “dog years.” There’s just one problem: It’s a crock of shit.
Most dogs reach sexual maturity by 6 months, so I don’t know why we perpetuate the whole 1 yr = 7 dog yrs thing. Do you know a lot of 3.5 year old humans that are ready to make babies?