The dog books that I have been reading say that your puppy will be house-trained "in no time" if you are attentive and don't let them have any accidents in the house. I am not sure what they mean by 'in no time", but it is not what I mean by the phrase.
We have spent the first week of our holiday diligently running outside to pee (her, not us) twelve or more times a day. We sleep with one ear tuned to puppy whines to make sure to take her out when she wakes up in the night. It is an awful lot like having your ear tuned to baby cries in the night.
The nights seem to have settled into 5 hours of sleep, then a bathroom break. After that she is primed to play. We, at 4 in the morning, are not. So there is an extended period of whining from the crate in the kitchen when we go back upstairs to bed. And we don't really get any sleep during that time because we are worrying if she needs to go again, or if she is being scarred by our letting her 'cry it out'. More flashbacks to the worries of my two human babies when they were learning to sleep through the night.
I am very hopeful that "in no time" will be before January is over. LK and I are a little punchy due to lack of sleep.
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Monday, December 24, 2012
Long Day of Firsts
It was a day of firsts for Astrid. First car ride. First visit to town. First visit to vet.
We have read hundreds of pages of puppy-raising books and blogs and articles between Fi, LK and I in the past three weeks. (The intensely focused desire to research things to be prepared has been passed on to the next generation). We have amassed vast knowledge in what we should do to avoid raising a Marley. However, reality and what should be rarely coincide in my life.
First car trip should be short and to someplace fun in ideal puppy world. In reality we drove 90 minutes to the vet and to do several hours of errands.
First vet trip should be cheerful and low stress. In reality she spent the entire drive to town practicing her "I am dying of loneliness and fear" sounds in a small enclosed car. 40 minutes in Fi had her ears covered while she murmured, "Astrid, be calm," over and over. It worked in short bursts and then the wailing began again. By the time we arrived in town I felt like I needed an appointment for something to calm my nerves.
However, although reality is far from perfect it was also a great day.
Fi was amazingly mature and responsible. She listened carefully and followed what I did with Astrid. She sat patiently in the car with our Houdini while I madly dashed in and out of stores to do errands (because a 180-minute round trip cannot be done for only one reason). She listened carefully to the vet and asked intelligent questions. And when she heard me telling this to her father after we got home, she visibly walked taller.
That was worth endless sleepless nights to this mom.
We have read hundreds of pages of puppy-raising books and blogs and articles between Fi, LK and I in the past three weeks. (The intensely focused desire to research things to be prepared has been passed on to the next generation). We have amassed vast knowledge in what we should do to avoid raising a Marley. However, reality and what should be rarely coincide in my life.
First car trip should be short and to someplace fun in ideal puppy world. In reality we drove 90 minutes to the vet and to do several hours of errands.
First vet trip should be cheerful and low stress. In reality she spent the entire drive to town practicing her "I am dying of loneliness and fear" sounds in a small enclosed car. 40 minutes in Fi had her ears covered while she murmured, "Astrid, be calm," over and over. It worked in short bursts and then the wailing began again. By the time we arrived in town I felt like I needed an appointment for something to calm my nerves.
However, although reality is far from perfect it was also a great day.
Fi was amazingly mature and responsible. She listened carefully and followed what I did with Astrid. She sat patiently in the car with our Houdini while I madly dashed in and out of stores to do errands (because a 180-minute round trip cannot be done for only one reason). She listened carefully to the vet and asked intelligent questions. And when she heard me telling this to her father after we got home, she visibly walked taller.
That was worth endless sleepless nights to this mom.
Houdini
The last two nights a new talent has been revealed in our little bundle of joy; escape artist extraordinaire. We may have to change her name.
Her first two nights were as expected. Lots of sad piteous crying when she was left in the kitchen while everyone else went up to bed. My heart cracked into little pieces as the sadness she oozed at being asked to sleep all alone after eight weeks of a cozy puppy pile with all her siblings. I even started to suggest that maybe letting her sleep in our room wouldn't be so bad. I know, puppies, they make the hardest hearts into mush. But the sad cries were shorter the second night and we hoped for a good sleep by Christmas Eve.
Her third night here she lulled us into complacency with a peaceful and quiet bedtime at 10:30. Then we were awoken at 1:30 in the morning to her shrieking in what sounded like agonizing death and a strange scrabbling sound. Then PIT PAT, PIT PAT of little feet climbing the stairs. Astrid pushed the baby gate up and crawled underneath. And at the top of the stairs she plunked her little bottom down and looked up at me as I came out of our bedroom bleary-eyed and stumbling. "Aren't you proud of me that I could find you all by myself?" those big brown eyes asked.
First thing in the morning a piece of plywood was fastened to the gate completely destroying any modicum of decor in both kitchen and living room. Raw plywood is just not a look. Of course, puppy toys strewn about the floor is not really in any kitchen decor book either...
Last night another deceptively quiet bedtime, and then in the wee hours we woke to more shrieking and a loud THUMP. Then PIT PAT, PIT PAT. Up the stairs came our little billy goat and plunked her bum at the top of the stairs. This time she used the plywood to climb the gate and vault herself over it. I know as I witnessed her do it right after I took her back to the kitchen.
She seemed so confused that I wouldn't be thrilled at her persistent faithfulness in seeking out our company. Was that not her role as faithful canine companion and escape artist extraordinaire?
This morning, more plywood.
Her first two nights were as expected. Lots of sad piteous crying when she was left in the kitchen while everyone else went up to bed. My heart cracked into little pieces as the sadness she oozed at being asked to sleep all alone after eight weeks of a cozy puppy pile with all her siblings. I even started to suggest that maybe letting her sleep in our room wouldn't be so bad. I know, puppies, they make the hardest hearts into mush. But the sad cries were shorter the second night and we hoped for a good sleep by Christmas Eve.
Her third night here she lulled us into complacency with a peaceful and quiet bedtime at 10:30. Then we were awoken at 1:30 in the morning to her shrieking in what sounded like agonizing death and a strange scrabbling sound. Then PIT PAT, PIT PAT of little feet climbing the stairs. Astrid pushed the baby gate up and crawled underneath. And at the top of the stairs she plunked her little bottom down and looked up at me as I came out of our bedroom bleary-eyed and stumbling. "Aren't you proud of me that I could find you all by myself?" those big brown eyes asked.
First thing in the morning a piece of plywood was fastened to the gate completely destroying any modicum of decor in both kitchen and living room. Raw plywood is just not a look. Of course, puppy toys strewn about the floor is not really in any kitchen decor book either...
Last night another deceptively quiet bedtime, and then in the wee hours we woke to more shrieking and a loud THUMP. Then PIT PAT, PIT PAT. Up the stairs came our little billy goat and plunked her bum at the top of the stairs. This time she used the plywood to climb the gate and vault herself over it. I know as I witnessed her do it right after I took her back to the kitchen.
She seemed so confused that I wouldn't be thrilled at her persistent faithfulness in seeking out our company. Was that not her role as faithful canine companion and escape artist extraordinaire?
This morning, more plywood.
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
And then there were five....
We have spent the past two weeks in much discussion. Should we take the plunge? Are we ready as a family? When we decided to commit, the question became who? How will we find a good match for the energy level and temperament of our family? All those questions were slowly worked through and we are ready (I hope).
We spent this evening preparing our home for a new family member who will be joining us after school tomorrow. The kitchen rugs were rolled up and put away. A cozy crate was scrubbed of all its stickers by two diligent children. A soft mattress was tucked lovingly inside. A special tote was filled with chow. Toys had tags taken off. A brush, collar, and leash were placed carefully in readiness.
This is the first puppy adventure of my life. I am both excited and nervous. LK has had many dogs growing up, including several puppies which are fond memories for him. The Sprouts are thrilled at this new stage in our family life, having already fallen in love with Astrid at Nana's house.
Astrid is 8 weeks old and was born to my parents' latest rescue dog, Wasapiica, just before Halloween. Her litter mates have been moved to foster homes waiting to find families who will adopt and love them. She is the last puppy left at my parents' house, waiting for us to finish school so we can spend out holidays finding new family routines that incorporate the love and affection of a puppy into our life.
I am sure there will be many stories to share with you in the next few months. Hopefully they won't be anything like those of John Grogan.
We spent this evening preparing our home for a new family member who will be joining us after school tomorrow. The kitchen rugs were rolled up and put away. A cozy crate was scrubbed of all its stickers by two diligent children. A soft mattress was tucked lovingly inside. A special tote was filled with chow. Toys had tags taken off. A brush, collar, and leash were placed carefully in readiness.
This is the first puppy adventure of my life. I am both excited and nervous. LK has had many dogs growing up, including several puppies which are fond memories for him. The Sprouts are thrilled at this new stage in our family life, having already fallen in love with Astrid at Nana's house.
Astrid is 8 weeks old and was born to my parents' latest rescue dog, Wasapiica, just before Halloween. Her litter mates have been moved to foster homes waiting to find families who will adopt and love them. She is the last puppy left at my parents' house, waiting for us to finish school so we can spend out holidays finding new family routines that incorporate the love and affection of a puppy into our life.
I am sure there will be many stories to share with you in the next few months. Hopefully they won't be anything like those of John Grogan.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Bragging Rights
I have the most amazing spouse. He is an artist of talent that has amazed me for 16+ years.
When we met (soooo many years ago in university) I was awestruck by the way his fingers flew across a keyboard to bring life and soul to mere notes on a page. His ability to lead congregational singing on an instrument is the most well-crafted I have ever heard in my life. And he sings and composes too.
It's no wonder I fell for him.
After our first Sprout arrived he picked up a camera. And now he has become a craftsman with light and colour. A perfectionist who is never satisfied with his craft, but a craftsman nonetheless. I am blessed to have the results on my blog regularly. As a family we have the most gorgeous family photo walls in our house.
Of course he doesn't believe me when I tell him that his pictures are amazing. Or that he is creative, or really anything else. I have to think so because I am his wife (is his thinking).
Well, the ultimate affirmation for an artist is recognition by other artists. LK received that a few weeks ago with a request from a magazine to publish a photo of his that he had on Flickr.
He told me about it just as I was falling asleep one night with, "Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. One of my pictures is going to be in a magazine."
"What?!?! You almost forgot? Holy cow sweetie! That is awesome!"
Can you tell who is the introvert?
Yesterday in the mail the concrete evidence arrived. My husband had his first photo published in a magazine! And I am bursting with pride.
You can check it out here.
When we met (soooo many years ago in university) I was awestruck by the way his fingers flew across a keyboard to bring life and soul to mere notes on a page. His ability to lead congregational singing on an instrument is the most well-crafted I have ever heard in my life. And he sings and composes too.
It's no wonder I fell for him.
After our first Sprout arrived he picked up a camera. And now he has become a craftsman with light and colour. A perfectionist who is never satisfied with his craft, but a craftsman nonetheless. I am blessed to have the results on my blog regularly. As a family we have the most gorgeous family photo walls in our house.
Of course he doesn't believe me when I tell him that his pictures are amazing. Or that he is creative, or really anything else. I have to think so because I am his wife (is his thinking).
Well, the ultimate affirmation for an artist is recognition by other artists. LK received that a few weeks ago with a request from a magazine to publish a photo of his that he had on Flickr.
He told me about it just as I was falling asleep one night with, "Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. One of my pictures is going to be in a magazine."
"What?!?! You almost forgot? Holy cow sweetie! That is awesome!"
Can you tell who is the introvert?
Yesterday in the mail the concrete evidence arrived. My husband had his first photo published in a magazine! And I am bursting with pride.
You can check it out here.
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