In many ways.  

Schemie was not an enormous dog, but he wasn’t small.  And he was built.  Solid as a rock.  He seemed big, so when he was trained to walk nicely, I thought he was a good big boy.

When Schemie was around 5, I rescued a Brittany mix – ballsy, bold “I’m taking your dog” move (I was much younger then).  Britty was a smaller girl, delicate, mistreated and fragile and in need of a real home.  Smaller than Schem.  No test of that massive ego.

After I lost Brit, I adopted another fragile girl.  My first greyhound.  The most glorious Berry, a.k.a. Flying Berry, who, thankfully, never raced, but had a bad end to her first adoption.  I became her second and last. 

She was about an inch and a half taller than macho Schem.  He handled it well, always protecting her.

When I lost Berry at the age of 12 ½, I adopted Dee Dee.  Ungraciously named Speedy Dee Dee – ugh.  (Unfortunately, she did race and has the scars from her collisions.  That is her past life and irrelevant in her new world.)  Beautiful, black panther girl. 

Dee Dee was about an inch or an inch and a half larger than Berry, who was an inch and a half taller than Schem.  Testing his mettle here.  He was good with her.  But by then, he was 15 and I think it didn’t matter to him so much.

And then I lost my Schem at the age of 15.  A rough one, and Dee was sad.  And life was about Dee now.  So I adopt Craigie D (a.k.a. Craigie Dillon).

CD is 3 inches taller than Dee Dee who is an inch taller than Berry who was an inch taller than Schemie.  That’s almost half a foot difference between the boys.

I thought Dee was a big girl.  Big haunches and not short.  But long-legged Sir Moosealot, wow.  I’m 5’9”.  I can rest my hand comfortably on his head with my arm bent.

A growing trend.  Dear Lord, what is next???