Chronicles of Chaos

September 18, 2008 | Print

Our New Puppy

We got a new dog. A puppy. His name is Bernard. He appears to be wicked smart and overly energetic. From the collection of dog books I’m glancing through for answers, he falls under the classification “pushy pup”.

He’s been with us a week, and Michael tells me I can’t ask him any more questions about the dog. I admit many of my sentences start with “the trainer said” and end with “what do you think?” Being a thorough person by genetics or habit or destiny, I amass information. The challenge always is application.

Like, the trainer says to spray bitter apple in the dog’s face if he barks incessantly in his outdoor pen (as opposed to his indoor pen, both advised by the trainer), but do I think that’s a good idea? Even if the trainer says letting the barking continue will intensify the problem and eventually lead to us (me?) taking more drastic steps.

I do find the dog’s routine (other than peeing in the middle of the night) works for me. Last night I had one of those postpartum dreams where I take the dog to the hospital and he shrinks into a sow bug, rolls into a ball and disappears to my great anxiety and confusion.

I’m not sure if it’s a sign of bonding or my exhaustion.

The dog caretaking seems to keep me more in the moment, and I’m holding better boundaries with the kids. For the first few days with Bernard, I confess buyer’s remorse. The dog seemed a distraction from what really mattered–my life before the dog. That quickly morphed into my current phase, appreciating life’s small moments, Oliver’s delight when the puppy licks his fingers or the funny questions Wyatt’s kindergartner friends ask me while they pet him.

One of my favorite dog books, The Art of Raising a Puppy, is written by monks who breed German Shepherds in upstate New York. I read it 15 years ago when I adopted a puppy in law school. Yesterday a mom watched me walking our little guy and mentioned the book helped her with raising her kids.

The monks give step by step instructions for bringing a puppy home for the first time, and then throw in a few life lessons:

“Learning the value of silence is learning to listen to, instead of screaming at, reality: opening your mind enough to find what the end of someone else’s sentence sounds like, or listening to a dog until you discover what is needed instead of imposing yourself in the name of training.”

So I’m trying to listen more and talk less. The solution for our puppy challenges seems to be the Bully Stick–a magic wand the puppy loves to chew. It keeps him content in his pen when we’re not walking, playing or training him.

I bought 20 Bully Sticks at the pet store (six or more and get a discount!). If he ever gets bored of them I’m not sure what we’ll do.

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