Bringing Up Puppy Series – Second Thoughts

“I’m starting to have second thoughts about this dog,” my son, Jack, informed me, as we cleaned up a big poop mound nestled in between his action figures on the floor. “This is gross. I didn’t know she’d be popping like this all the time.”

“Can’t you just pretend it’s a landmine?” I joked.

He just gave me a look.

“Yeah, I agree,” said my daughter. “The dog was a bad idea.” She petted the kitty’s head and gave him a kiss. Spencer managed to look as innocent as possible sitting there in her arms while Hershey chewed on the back of our chair.

“You’d really want to get rid of the dog? We just got her!” I said, shooing her away from her giant chew toy. I wanted to remind them that we got the dog thinking she’d be great for the kids. Now they’re ready to say so long? It’s only been 3 weeks.

Jack sat there and thought for a moment. “Well, I 50% want to keep her and I 50% think it was a bad idea.”

There certainly are some moments when it’s hard to argue with that. We’re stuck at a plateau where she’s peeing and pooping inside just as often as she is outside. And it’s especially annoying when she does it right after you bring her in. She doesn’t seem to be making any progress. I thought labs were supposed to be smart? Did we get one that isn’t?

And it’s not just the potty problems. She jumps and scratches you with her claws, she tugs on our clothes with her teeth. She’s developing some bad habits, and I’m having a hard time figuring out what to do. I hate to say it, but right now there are days when the bad outweighs the good. I would feel dishonest if I was just candy-coating this whole puppy-rearing process as fluff and fun. There are some really, really hard days, and you need to be prepared, or have a shoulder to lean on.
Case in point, last Saturday, when I called my sister-in-law, crying.

“I can’t take this anymore,” I said, as I cleaned up another pee puddle on our once nice hardwood kitchen floor. I knew she’d understand; she has a new Burmese Mountain Dog puppy who woke with poop-covered fur in the middle of the night for a week. Good times.

“Don’t worry,” she told me. “She’ll get better, she will.” She has two other dogs. She should know I guess. But maybe my puppy is the one puppy who won’t get better!

“My whole life revolves around this dog! I didn’t know that was going to happen,” I sniffed. It had been a long week, with work projects interrupted, dozens of messes to clean up and her basically wanting my constant attention. It was Hershey overload, and I was burnt out.

“I’m sure you could find someone else to take her if you really didn’t want her.”

“No. I’d feel bad doing that. I don’t want to give up yet.” What would that be teaching the kids? Give up when the going gets tough? Cave in when the pee flows freely?

“Well, if you makes you feel better, I gave my dog away twice. He was a horrible puppy! He didn’t just pee in one spot, he left a pee trail around the house.”

“And what happened? You have him now?”

“I know! They gave him back both times!”

Then I spotted Hershey peeing in the same spot she peed in five minutes earlier. “Aghh! She’s doing it again.”

She sighed. “If you really want to get rid of her, I have a friend who I know will take her.”

This time, I didn’t protest.

“Just wait it out,” she said. “I was listening to one of the morning shows, and they were giving advice to all the people who got puppies for Christmas, and now a month later are saying, ‘Uh, oh! What did we do?’ You’re not alone. But the expert they were talking to said to give it 90 days before you make that decision.”

I took a deep breath. “Okay. I can do 90 days.”

I locked myself in the bathroom and got ready for a wedding shower that afternoon. I was really looking forward to going—just to get away from the dog. Horrible, right?

********************

I had a few hours away from Hershey, and felt a little more sane. And of course I came home to good reports from my husband. “She pooped outside twice,” he told me, seemingly unaware of how difficult taking on 90% of the dog care has been for me.

“No problems?” I asked.

“No problems at all.” He said. Liar. Or show off.

We went out that night, and had to usher her into her crate. She’s always happy to go in for a treat, but once she realizes we’re leaving, she cries and whines, but this time, I left with no regrets. All dog and no play makes Mom a big grouch.

Nonetheless, I had a few more doggie-free hours and was feeling better. I tried to remind myself of all the things that were going right. Like how we pretty much had a nighttime routine down pat; no more dirty crate at 3am for us. She can hold it for 6 hours between the time I put her to bed and the time my husband comes home from work. That’s huge.

I went to bed feeling a little better, and the next day something amazing happened; something to reaffirm that old saying that it’s always darkest before the dawn: Hershey sat by the door to be let out.

Cue the halleluiah chorus, we’re making progress.

Or maybe she heard my conversation on the phone.

Either way, I felt 100% better about our little pup.

“Are we getting rid of the dog?” My son asked later the next day.

“No, why?”

“Because I heard you on the phone, saying you wanted to get rid of her,” he said.

Ahh, someone was listening, even if it wasn’t the dog.

“Mommy was just having a bad day. No, we’re gonna keep working with Hershey. She’s part of the family now, and we’ll figure it out.”

I handed him the leash. “Why don’t you go take her out now?” And save Mommy from another doggie meltdown.

—————–
Have you missed any of the articles in this series?
If so, you can find them at:
The Bringing Up Puppy Series page.

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