It's no surprise that Sam and I are not going to have any children. Sure we like kids - ahem, other people's kids - but we both knew when we met each other, breeding was not something we were interested in. The closest thing we have is Roy. Our little, hairy, whiny, annoying baby. Recently, it struck me that our boy is growing up. It seems to have happened over night and it has made me nostalgic for the times when I could easily scoop him up in my arms and scratch his chin until he fell asleep. Of course, that was just a couple months ago. This week I noticed he had lost all but one of his baby teeth. The last one is clinging on, even though his adult canine tooth has pushed its way through Roy's gums. I tried to yank out the remaining baby tooth yesterday to keep as a memento, but Sam made me stop. So I took photos of it instead. Roy is almost as big as Bully now and oh, he's not done growing yet. Our little boy... sniff, sniffle
Then. This was the day Sam found him in the woods. Half-dead and oh, so innocent.
Now. A holy terror, indeed.