It has been one week and a day. One week and a day of kisses, outside, come, sit, ouch!, good girl, that's enough, leave the cat alone or you're going to get hurt, just a minute... a whole new vocabulary of desired actions, redirections, praise and love. Is it working?
Wow! At times, through the veil of exhaustion, it seems like progress is a long way off. I remember this feeling. My children posed very similar challenges... well, they still do. Other times, like this time, while Houdie is quietly, patiently waiting on the mat in my office for her breakfast, I feel we are well on our way. I am amazed, really.
Routines are getting established. There have been only a few "accidents" in the house. Houdie respects all body parts that are attached. Hanging fabric is dimming in its lustre as a chew toy. She and the cat will share the water bowl or a bone... we are all settling in.
Houdie and I have one more week together and then she goes back to gramma and grandpa's for a couple of weeks. Next weekend, Houdie's sister, Taz, is coming home. After a day of frolicking as they once did with the rest of their 4 brothers and sister, Houdie will go and Taz will stay.
As I rest this weekend, marginally catching up on lost zzz's, I look ahead to the two weeks with Taz. I can only hope Taz and I have a similar experience as I've had with Houdie. A whole new set of firsts. I smile though... there is a reason Taz is named Taz!
B
I'm not sure who is amazed more with discovery, Houdie or I. One thing is for sure... I have a helper on my hands.
Take for instance my insidious habit of piling paper - my horoscope warned me recently of my need to deal with my paperwork. Lo and behold, I have help! The two piles of paper on the floor did have a destination. Well thought out and meticulously sorted through; one destined for shredding and one for the garbage bag. I even had a garbage bag beside the one destined for such. Didn't yet know how I was going to deal with the shredding pile. I don't have a shredder. Or do I?
My office is where I spend a significant amount of my time. Either working or supposedly doing other paperwork or sitting here talking with the many wonderful people I've found here. Houdie loves it here. Her favourite place is right under my desk, wrapped in all the cords once neatly tucked out of sight. The other day, not so long after her arrival, she decided that the garbage pile was the shredding pile. Can't say as I blame her. She wasn't here for the well thought out and meticulous sort. There is no signage to indicate which one is which, so... why not!
Suddenly, I was motivated to move that particular project along. Wonderous!! I reached for the primed garbage bag and started to put the papers into it. What fun, thought Houdie! While I'm trying to shove them in with increasing speed, she's adamantly articulating that they should be shredded first. The faster I go, the more frenzied she got. Then she got an idea. Somehow she could delay my shoving and she might have a better chance at shredding if she took the garbage bag away! Brilliance! Shoving and shredding and pulling were all a blur. Someone in my management theory would praise the efficiency and effectiveness of this process... the tears were rolling down my cheeks! I honestly cannot remember a time when I've laughed so hard.
I am so blessed!
B
Visions of sugar plums dancing in my head are a dream of the past as the battle of woman versus dog manifests in the crate arena. Our test of tenaciousness as both weary from the sparring impresses respect on both sides of the the wire door.
I pat the chenille pad in the bottom of the crate attempting to entice her into the cozy and safe den; she humours me. With all four extra large feet in she assesses quickly if I'm going to join her in this long anticipated slumber; it ain't happening. The challenge begins...
At first she is slithering. Sliding her body nose first into any possible crevice or crack from which she can see freedom. As I increase in adeptness to her ingenuity, she matches me with physical strength that, at first, sends me reeling in surprise. My hands firmly, but gently hold her and guide her to the plushness of Alex and her puppy nest.
Slowly, she tires and resigns to them. She wines to a whimper. Her breathing heavy as she regains herself. Her eyes close. Her breathing becomes deep as I stroke her smoothness and feel her warmth. I back out of the doorway and watch for any sign of her awakening. Nothing.
I close the door without a sound. Slowly and very deliberately, I grasp the locking mechanism drawing their catch deep enough to slide the door into place. I try so very hard to not make a sound in release... I haven't mastered that yet. Her head snaps up, her eyes wide, she looks at me and the whine starts ever so slowly matching the depth of her breath. I dare not move.
She closes her eyes once more. I sit there, barely breathing. Whine to a wimper once more... I start to get up. Instantly, she's on her feet. I lean forward to the door, softly cooing, mom to babe, sharing kisses through the wires. I say goodnight.
As we stare each other down for what seems like eternity, her immature howl only misses the lower octaves at 8 weeks, I marvel at her strength, both in fortitude and body. I resign and walk towards my bedroom while the neighbours at least 5 doors down can marvel at the sound of the hound, too. This is the third time tonight and somewhere in the recesses of my mind I know... this too shall pass.
If I tried I could likely write about a lot of firsts with Houdie already. From a teenage perspective it could have been her first fart or her first nose dive as she lost traction on the laminate floor not reallizing she would run out of runway on this particular landing. What about her first trip around the yard that left her pooped (literally) and wondering what happened to that postage stamp? Or, the first encounter with the neighbour's dogs... they look my size, could these be my brothers? Her first encounter with the cat proved curiosity doesn't kill the cat, not in the first round anyway. I must get at that split on her ear with mineral oil and a bit of Polysporin...
There will be many more firsts in the coming days, weeks and months. What perculates in my mind as she becomes a new, uncoordinated appendage to my legs is our very first walk together. You know, the action falling from vision that speaks... this will be my opportunity to finally work on my own fitness sans the usual excuses cause... when a dog has got to go, a dog has got to go!
To the onlookers eye, who was that idiot trailing down the back alley, stumbling but not quite falling; twirling like the leaves in a spasdic, sporadic gale? No streak of wonder, that's for sure. But, something is a foot. There must be with that Mona Lisa grin on permanent display upon her face.
She's heavy. What? This little bundle of joy insisting that a block is far too long and the nippiness of the morning is far too cold to be overcome by the scents of days, dogs and various other wonders of the world gone by? As she shivers in my arms, and whispers her whiney sweetness in my ear, I remind myself that soon... oh, so very soon, I'll need a wagon if this continues. In the meantime, I can accept the medicine ball approach. Who am I to judge this new fitness regime?
As her breathing becomes heavier at the nape of my feet, my thoughts wander to her sister who will join us a week past the full moon and Mona Lisa cracks a grin... the firsts will all start again.
With the trip there and back a memory fading fast, I'm exhausted... enviously listening to her moans and sprawls on the floor as she snoozes for the fifth time since midnight.
Do I dare take a nap?
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