Friday, August 13, 2010
It's a Bo-tiful Day!
It's been 1 week since we brought home our fluffy bundle of joy.
And what a week it's been!
So many people advised "it's just like having a newborn again." I smiled every time another well-meaning person mentioned this-comforting myself in knowing our puppy would be different. And well adjusted. And happy. And showered with toys. And given treats. And ample petting. No whimpering necessary.
I wonder if crow tastes good. It looks like I might be eating some.
Last potty trip outside for evening: check.
Fluffy blankie for crate-complete with smells of litter mates from Bo's first home: check.
Treat inside of crate to entice Bo into liking his kennel: check.
After weighing the advice of many and what I'd been reading in the puppy books from the library, we decided to keep Bo and his crate in our bedroom-anticipating middle-of-the-night potty breaks. We put Bo in his crate and crawled in bed ourselves, holding our breath as we listened to the quiet. Ahhhh . . . such a sweet puppy.
I'm sure you're way ahead of me here. Within minutes of turning out the light and anticipating a good night's sleep, it began. The whimpering was quiet at first, but before we knew it, the sounds had given way to down and out shrieking and borderline screaming.
Suffice to say, it wasn't the quietest night in our home. (yawn)
Thankfully, Bo is starting to establish a bit of a predictable routine in our home, although we did switch it up a bit Thursday evening. A late night at work had me walking in the door at 2:30 am to the sight of Gregg still wide awake and working on his computer. In anticipation of Bo's 4:00 cry to go outside, we jumped on the opportunity to get puppy face outside to do his business a couple of hours ahead of schedule. Imagine my surprise when he still woke up at 4 am. (Really puppy? Must you?)
At 6 am, like he has done every morning this past week, he was awake. WIDE awake. If he could talk, he'd surely be saying "I love you! I love mornings! I love that you must pay attention to me to avoid a puddle in front of the coffee maker!" I just didn't have it in me. I took him out to potty and looked at that pitiful face when we got inside again. There's NO leaving him gated in the kitchen by himself while I sneak off to try and catch a few more moments of sleep. He hasn't had any part of it all week ('cause believe me, I've tried!). He whimpers, whines, cries and makes the most horrible noises until I give in and climb over the gate again. It's awful. So there we
sit . . . him eagerly wagging his teeny little tail and me slumped over the kitchen table with my coffee-smiling feebly and asking him if he slept well.
After a night of next-to-no-sleep with my late arrival home and the regularly scheduled sounds of Bo's usual 4 am potty break (God bless my husband for taking that one on), I did what any sleep-deprived mom would do upon waking to the 6 am puppy clock.
I woke my oldest child.
"I have some good news and some not-so-good news," I whispered to a sleeping Cassidy-right after I managed to climb the ladder to her loft bed and thanked the dear Lord that I didn't fall off in my stupor. She lifted her head groggily (like mother, like daughter) and looked at me.
"My good news," I began, "is that we have a new puppy. The not-so-good news is that we have a new puppy." Confusion clouded her face. "Ok. Here's the deal . . . neither Daddy or I have had more than a couple of hours of sleep and Bo is tearing around the house and lovin' life. You're on puppy duty."
My heart nearly soared with joy when she popped right up and eagerly climbed down the ladder.
"Sure, Mom! No problem! You go right back to bed. I've got it under control."
I'd be lying if I said that Cassidy didn't become my most favorite person in the world at that moment.
I crawled back into bed and slept for another couple of hours. Ah, bliss! Pure and simple bliss.
As the remainder of the day drifted by, we continued to discover the joys of having a dog in our life again . . . We've gotten reacquainted with tearing around the yard and watching him flop down in the grass and pant and grin at us. We've observed him stalk anything that seems the least bit interesting (stray pieces of his food that he flips out of his dish or clumps of leaves that fall from the work of the squirrels in the trees above him) and have taken him for rides in the car. On Friday, he met the friendly people at our bank and sampled their milk bones, met a couple of his human cousins, a friend of Cassidy's and took his first trip into PetSmart. To say that "it's a dog's life" would be an understatement. He had a blast.
He has stolen our hearts and we are in love. He's not our sweet Sadie, but he's our sweet Bo. And just like Sadie, he's ours. And it's all good. (No matter how much or how little sleep is involved!)