Every once in a while, I weigh Scout to see how much she has grown.  This was much easier to do when she was a puppy, weighing in at a mere 20, 25 lbs. That was a time when I was working out more consistently, a habit of mine which has been happening less and less frequently over the past six months because of the more and more science that I have been taking.  And OH THE SCIENCE, it cuts into your work-out schedule. I promise.

Today, in a desperate attempt to evade the Chemistry which has been hanging over my head all week, I picked her up and carried her to the scale.  Last time I weighed her, she cashed in at 54 lbs., just a few pounds shy of my dream weight for her: 60 lbs.  Since she’s a super-mutt, we had no idea how big she was going to get when we first adopted her.  She’s a lab/blue heeler/german shepherd/? mix, and those are all pretty big breeds.  You know, except the ? breed, which we assumed couldn’t be too small, cause hey! look at her! Normal German Shepherd sized puppy!

So she was growing, growing, growing, at about the rate of 10 lbs./month until about 3 months ago, when she slowed down to 5 lbs./month.  I wanted her to keep growing at that rate until her first birthday (a month from today) which would have made her EXACTLY the right size.

Right. So there I was, standing with a ? pound dog in my arms, still dressed in my pajamas at almost 5 p.m., weighing my dog so I could take a mental break from Dalton’s Law of Partial Pressures, when I realized that we had gained 5 pounds since the last time I weighed us! So exciting! She was right on her way to sixty pounds! HORRAY.

That’s when I completed the last half of the weighing regimen, the part when you have to step on the scale sans-dog and then subtract me alone from me with her.

Turns out, Scout is not the one that gained 5 pounds.

HORROR.

Back to Chemistry.  Maybe it’s a little boring, but at least it’s not personally insulting, right?