For the last few days, I’ve gone into the bedroom toward the end of the day thinking, “gosh, I don’t think Buster ate anything today…” and as I have asked TW, very hopefully, if he was better today — I’ve realized, oh wait… he ate a potato or umm the quilt or … yea. No. He ate things. Sigh.
But, he has eaten fewer things. And we’ve spent a lot less time chasing him through the house yelling, “BUSTERRRRRRRR!”
I’m trying to stay hopeful. Because really, eating a raw potato off of the shelf is not a big deal. And I guess, in the scheme of things, eating some more of my already eaten quilt is not so bad either. It could be, and has been, so much worse.
It feels like this was right about the time last year that Skeeter poodle stopped eating so many of the things… so maybe he’s growing up and improving. A little. Maybe? Maybe? MAYBE?
Yea, this is me still trying to feel hopeful…