SLOW GROWTH

I looked in the mirror this morning and considered the state of my hair. Newly cut in mid- March, just beneath my ears, it now hits against my shoulders and falls in front my eyes. Today I brushed it all back in a tight ponytail, the first time I’ve been able to do so. In truth, not a flattering look, but a relief. Oswaldo’s hair has gotten longer and wilder – on a zoom call our lawyer said he looked like a poet - and he too is hoping for a ponytail soon.

 

Unlike our hair, Loki, the German Shepherd puppy, is growing daily, if not hourly, in front of our eyes. He weighed just over 8 kilos when he arrived 2 weeks ago, and now he’s at 11 kilos and some. His little body has lengthened and lifted up on sturdy legs with those big paws. It is almost impossible to lift him – he slithers in your arms until you manage to secure him in a firm grip, hand under his rump. After a shaky first week with eating issues after deworming he now wolfs down his kibble with relish and then asks for more. He doesn’t need the spoon anymore, although it obviously has good associations for him. When I offer him mashed banana (cleverly masking his medicine) from a little teaspoon, he eats everything sitting up properly with his dark eyes focused on me.  He’s a jolly and confident dog that likes to explore and find his own places in the garden, and only rarely gets fazed by Zaffy’s shifting moods.

 

Zaffy is now in a place where she has accepted his presence and sometimes finds him quite fun to be with. She can be very patient, but when he bites her legs for the umpteenth time or hangs from her neck by those razor-sharp little teeth, she growls terribly. Then he backs off with a little scream and hides under a chair. But not for long. Soon all is forgotten and he’s back again, this time perhaps tr­ying to bite her lip. Sometimes at night Zaffy can get a little too aggressive in a way that reminds me of Sam, our toucan. When dusk fell, he would “turn” as we jokingly said, in the manner of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and would lunge to bite if you came near his cage. In Zaffy’s case I imagine she’s fed up and tired and wants to be left alone. Then we break off their “play” and distract them with other activities. It’s surprisingly time-consuming. Not like having a baby, of course, but close.

 

Outside our walls, life goes on, unseen by us. We continue without leaving the house, although by now more people have entered, either other self-isolating friends for much appreciated socially distant outside lunches, or trusted people to work in the house. We are careful and stick to sanitary protocols. We want to establish a new normal lifestyle, where we can accept our limits, but still enjoy activities that are important to us.