Over the next few months she grew quicker than I could have ever imagined and by the time my brother came to stay with us in June she was quickly dubbed “The Monster.” One look at her and you know instantly where she got her name; she now weighs in at almost 100 lbs, but still has the energy of a typical 11-mo old puppy. It is quite obvious that she is a large dog. Obvious, that is, to everyone but Maia.
As I type this she is laying next to me on the couch, squirming, because I’m apparently taking up to much room on her throne. And later this evening I can guarantee I’ll find her on our bed, curled up, as if she is trying to hide. Her head will be on my pillow and she’ll be peering up at me, her big brown eyes questioning whether or not I can see her.
It is apparent that Maia believes she is still a small dog; a dog that could be carried out to go potty in the snow, a dog that could fall asleep in our arms, a dog that could sit comfortably in our lap.
Maia, with her favorite auntie Kira