Spriggan is a tiny dog. When I first got her, she was 2.5 pounds, one quarter of the size she is now. Despite the exponential weight gain (such as it is), I still classify her as a tiny dog.
When she was a tiny baby and I was an incredibly overprotective/obsessive helicopter mom, I found all sorts of things to be terrified of:
- What if she finds a way to climb up three feet of shelving and eat a bunch of chocolate?
- What if Pixie accidentally eats Spriggan in one bite, thinking she’s a delicious treat?
- Is her nose too dry? What if she’s sick?!
- Is her nose too wet? What if she’s sick?!
- What if a bird of prey snatches her up and carries her off while she’s playing outside?
That last one was based, in part, on a video I saw in which a ‘golden eagle’…
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