Stuck in a Furrow
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Puppy Love
No one ever told me that raising a puppy was this hard.
Or if they did, me in all my stubborn glory, would have not believed them. After all, how hard could it be to turn 12 pounds of fur into a loveable, come hither when called, lick my face to show me you love me, lay on my lap in blissful sleep while I watch TV, well-trained pooch?
Apparently it is quite difficult.
This is what HIS (being the boy) puppy did to MY bathroom over the weekend. We thought that instead of leaving him in his kennel for the day as we were going to be gone for the better part of it, we would put him in the bathroom so he'd have room to run! and jump! and play!
Oh my.
We put the towels up, pushed the stuff back on the counter and put his kennel on the floor.
We neglected to A) remove the roll of toilet paper from puppy reach B) clean out under the cupboards, including all cleaning supplies or C) supply him with a toy so that he wouldn't chew everything he could get his sharp claws on.
This will teach us.
There have been sleepless nights and (only a few) accidents on the floor (thank heavens for a boy to clean them up) and constant monitoring and biting and chewing and pulling and jumping and tears...lots and lots of tears and mostly on my part. Why oh why did I sign up for this?
This might be the reason...
Or even this...
We had grand plans of a puppy who would love to ride in the back seat of the car, windows down and soaking up the wind, tongue panting and eyes watering. We wanted a dog who would go to the bathroom on command. Stay in his kennel at night and not make a peep when we left him for the day. We wanted freedom with a dog and didn't want to become that couple that had to rush home after work to let the dog out.
It is a good thing we don't have any friends here (yet?) as we have totally become that couple that has to run home from work to let the dog out!
Oh well. We do love this little gaffer who makes us laugh as he tries to get traction on the floor while chasing his ball, who is oblivious to the fact that there are pills in his Kraft singles, who will do the poo sniff and run outside in a moment of panic, who still prefers me over the Boy and who is slowly, very slowly, learning how to behave like a good little puppy.
And thankfully, the tears are becoming less.
Or if they did, me in all my stubborn glory, would have not believed them. After all, how hard could it be to turn 12 pounds of fur into a loveable, come hither when called, lick my face to show me you love me, lay on my lap in blissful sleep while I watch TV, well-trained pooch?
Apparently it is quite difficult.
This is what HIS (being the boy) puppy did to MY bathroom over the weekend. We thought that instead of leaving him in his kennel for the day as we were going to be gone for the better part of it, we would put him in the bathroom so he'd have room to run! and jump! and play!
Oh my.
We put the towels up, pushed the stuff back on the counter and put his kennel on the floor.
We neglected to A) remove the roll of toilet paper from puppy reach B) clean out under the cupboards, including all cleaning supplies or C) supply him with a toy so that he wouldn't chew everything he could get his sharp claws on.
This will teach us.
There have been sleepless nights and (only a few) accidents on the floor (thank heavens for a boy to clean them up) and constant monitoring and biting and chewing and pulling and jumping and tears...lots and lots of tears and mostly on my part. Why oh why did I sign up for this?
This might be the reason...
Or even this...
We had grand plans of a puppy who would love to ride in the back seat of the car, windows down and soaking up the wind, tongue panting and eyes watering. We wanted a dog who would go to the bathroom on command. Stay in his kennel at night and not make a peep when we left him for the day. We wanted freedom with a dog and didn't want to become that couple that had to rush home after work to let the dog out.
It is a good thing we don't have any friends here (yet?) as we have totally become that couple that has to run home from work to let the dog out!
Oh well. We do love this little gaffer who makes us laugh as he tries to get traction on the floor while chasing his ball, who is oblivious to the fact that there are pills in his Kraft singles, who will do the poo sniff and run outside in a moment of panic, who still prefers me over the Boy and who is slowly, very slowly, learning how to behave like a good little puppy.
And thankfully, the tears are becoming less.
