27.5 inches???

Okay, maybe I'm not going to be the world's smallest Newf. A very strange thing has happened. Even though I've weighed about 98 lb for four months, I've gotten bigger. Rarf noticed that I seemed to be taller (she must have noticed the proximity of my mouth to the top of the kitchen counter) and so she pulled out a tape and measured me. At first she said, "Twenty-eight at the shoulder? That can't be! That's breed standard for an adult male." So she measured and remeasured, making me "Stay" and flattening the fur on my shoulders. Finally she declared, "Twenty-seven and a half unless I'm totally blind; no way around it. So much for our petite Newfie. It looks like there's some weight gain in your future, Ciara-Miara." (This explains a lot: I have never FELT like a small Newfie).

I am not a horse

. . . although I feel like one with this halter on. Oh boy, I wish I could speak human. "What's up with that?" I'd say, when Rarf puts this thing on me. I don't need this: I've been so good at listening to "Easy," "Wait," and "Stay" commands. It's not as if I pull when I'm leashed. Well, maybe when we see other dogs and people. Okay, maybe I get a bit carried away sometimes. I did pull Rarf down that one time, when I saw Tim the Labrador coming my way. But he hadn't been over to play with me in so long! I didn't mean to pull her down . . . Just like that time at the high school field when I didn't mean to tackle her. I was just playing! I mean, she falls down so easily! Anyway, I've pretty much figured out that if I kind of flick and duck my head at the same time, I can get out of this halter. I'm saving that trick for emergencies.