Weekly Kafka

A short tale with pictures. Humor me while I pretend to know exactly what Kafka is thinking.

Gosh I like the fall.

There are leaves on the ground. I like leaves. They are almost as tasty as sticks.

What is this? A stick? With leaves?

I had better try it out.

Say... this is good!

Soooo gooood.

Within the past week Kafka has lost all of his baby canine teeth, and some molars too. He would be chewing on something (invariably something we didn't want him to chew on), and I would hear something skitter across the hardwood, like a little pebble. Then he would run after it and try to eat it. Yum. Teeth.

His new teeth are less sharp, and much more substantial than his puppy teeth. He is looking more and more grown, which is about right as this week he is five months old (I have no idea how many weeks he is any more because I have lost count and am too lazy to count again).