New Puppy: Day 60

We have survived 2 whole months!  Survived might be a bit dramatic, but there have been moments it feels like the correct phrase.  It's been 8 weeks of cleaning up carpets (and bedding, towels, chair coverings, ect.), constantly picking up toys, training, commands, bruises, little sleep, worrying about bring away from home for more than 6 hours, and the phrase 'no bark' on repeat. It's been 60 days of kisses, smiles, cuddles, and so much love.

Marco and I learned the best way to keep him out of his stitches after surgery was to wear a onsie.  Marco was not impressed, but he also didn't have another vet visit.  I have learned philodendrons have a mysterious draw to little puppies, but are not wholly poisonous (thank the creator).   We have learned strawberries are tasty (and hopefully he doesn't find the ones growing on the deck) but tomatoes are not (at least those plants are safe).  And Patrick has learned to play.

I think that's been the greatest gift.  Watching Patrick instigate a wrestling match, or let Marco chew on the other end of his bone, or tug at the other end of Inchy when Marco jumps up on the bed with the stuffed worm has been heartwarming.  Marco has allowed him to enjoy playing with another dog again and Patrick in turn is showing an incredible amount of patience towards his little brother.  They sleep almost touching on the bed.  Marco can jump up and plop down on part of Patrick's legs and he only looks at him now instead of huffing off.  The kisses are going both ways.

That's not to say we don't have our moments of jealousy.  Patrick is allowed to roam free during the day where Marco needs to be kenneled for his own safety.  When I get home I generally have a happy Patrick to greet me and I spend a few moments giving him some personal attention.  But when I go upstairs and open the crate, Patrick blocks Marco from jumping up to say hello to me.  When I'm cuddling with one of the couch, the other is not too happy they are being left out.  We are finding little ways we can spend a few moments of time together and I know the struggle will lessen.

Even with the downs and mostly ups, we are a happy family of three.  I couldn't have imagined how complete our home would feel adding our newest member, but it feels like it was fated.  We are one little healthy, happy pack!

New Puppy: Day 1

We are officially a family of three!

Marco was altered (such a nice way of putting 'had his testicles surgically removed') on Monday.  Little guy was a champ, I was a wreck.  When Patrick was neutered at 18 months, it did not go so well, so I was bracing for another long road to recovery filled with extra weeks in a collar, not wanting to eat, torn stitches, and lots of worry.  But his foster mom (my aunt) called and said everything went just fine.  He was home and she was trying her hardest to keep him calm, but all he wanted to do was play with his foster sisters (Bell 12 years, and Gabby 8 month).  He didn't seem to be in much pain.  He bounced back from the anesthesia undaunted.  But keeping him calm was going to be a challenge with his two sisters running around playing while he was in his kennel.  Maybe it would be best if I came and got him tomorrow.  He can be quiet at my house where Patrick ignores him when he's in his kennel.   So that was it.  I had spent weeks preparing for his arrival and now we were there.  I was excited and nervous.

After I got home form work yesterday, Patrick and I went for a walk, had dinner, and jumped in the car.  I pulled into the driveway and Marco went nuts with excitement.  Patrick spent a few minutes playing with Gabby and Bell before we loaded up the little guy and set off on our new adventure.

We made it home and the goal of the evening was to relax and spend some quality cuddle time on the couch.  With my aunt being Marco's foster mom, we had a chance to have a few sleep overs so the boys could get to know one another slowly.  We had spent some time cuddling on the couch before, but somehow last night was different.  Patrick senses this is different then the last time Marco was here.  I think he's figured out this is permanent this time.  He was far more clingy than normal.  I sat on the couch and he immediately jumped up and was in between my legs, as close as he could get.  Marco chewed on a bone on the floor for a while and then jumped up and joined us as well.  I was covered in puppies.  It was heaven.

Then we all went up to bed.  Again, we have done this before.  We all co-existed on the bed quite well the last few times Marco has stayed with us.  Last night was completely different.  Marco tried to creep closer to cuddle with Patrick and Patrick was less than thrilled.  Marco tried to get closer to me and Patrick stretched out to keep him off to the side.  Both boys played musical positions all night long until Patrick eventually stretched out along my side with his paws curled around my legs and I stretched a hand out so Marco could lay his head in it.  It was not a very restful night for any of us.  Marco was walking like he was half asleep.  Patrick didn't want to get out of the bed once Marco and I were out of it.  And I have been functioning on pure coffee all day.

It gets better.  I know it does.  They boys like to play.  Marco brings out a side of Patrick I haven't seen in a long time.  Patrick enjoys showing Marco up when I give a command.  There personalities are different and yet complimentary.  I can't wait for the day we are all settled into a routine.  For now it will be extra love to the oldest, and quiet time for the little one.  The next few weeks are going to be long.  I am not going to get much more sleep for a while.  But I have both boys to keep me going.  To make me laugh.  And we have each other to love.  What an adventure this will be!

I might be insane

My baby is almost 6 years old.  He's a sweet, spoiled, loved boy.  We've weathered the storm of gluten allergies, corn intolerance, and picky eating.  We've come out the other side a team.  A momma and her boy.  And we are very content to be this way.  He's happy being an only 'child' and socializing with other puppy friends then coming home to cuddle on the couch.  Just the two of us.  Two peas in a pod.  Used to our routine.  Very happy with the life we've built for each other.  So why rock the boat?

A year and a half ago, he lost his best friend.  Sammi was the first puppy my family ever had.  We lived in apartments my whole life.  We had guinea pigs.  Gerbils.  A rabbit.  But never a dog.  My aunts had dogs.  My uncle had dogs.  My nana had dogs.  But never us.   So when my sister showed up with a 'free' puppy just before her senior year of high school, it was pretty exciting.  Sammi technically didn't live with us at first, but that didn't last long.  Nor did my sister's interest in her puppy.   She quickly became the apple of her gramma's eye.  My mom walked her.  Feed her.  Cuddled with her.  Loved her.  My mom even moved so Sammi could live with us officially.  My sister may have picked the puppy out and given her a name...but Sammi belonged to her gramma.  And  no one argued with that, least of all gramma or Sammi.

Sammi was 8 when I 'obtained' Patrick.  Patrick was about 18 months.  He was loud.  He was rowdy.  He was a lot for a then 8 year old to handle.  But she did.  She put him in his place immediately, and the two became fast friends.  She played with Patrick.  She put up with his nipping, his barking, his need to be the little Napoleon his is.  She taught him how to be a part of our pack.  She was very tolerant to this high strung little thing one of her other alphas brought into her pack.   Sammi was the perfect mentor to my boy.

At the age of 12, Sammi got sick.  A cure was just not in the cards.  And for a few weeks we watched her fade away.  Losing my sweet puppy was as hard on Patrick as it was for me.  The first time we went to my mom's, it was so hard to watch Patrick roam around looking for his friend.  Even harder was knowing I couldn't make him understand.  He moped around for weeks.  I made the decision that it was time to seriously consider expand our family. 

And what a process that has been.  Being a single, working woman with a constantly busy schedule...timing was everything.  I knew I wanted a younger, small to medium sized, male dog.  The photos on the rescue sites are endless.  So were my fears of whether Patrick would accept a new member to our pack.  Even though my mom found a new friend, Patrick was not thrilled with Ami.  She's very hyper, and young, and plays hard.  He's become slowly less social.  Not as friendly to other dogs when we walk.  I knew it would take a special friend to make this work.  And I knew that I had about about a year or so before Patrick's age would make this even more difficult.  This summer was finally the right time to put an honest effort into finding a new friend...And then I met 'Chipmunk'.

Chip has not lived an easy life.  He was saved from certain death along side his brother and sister by a good Samaritan who heard whimpering from a burning pit.   The three little rat terrier/beagle mixes were stranded, starving, and almost on fire.  They guessed they were about 6 weeks old. They had to be separated to find then foster homes, and two of them made the trek from Kentucky to Minnesota.  A few days into his first foster home, it was clear something was not right.  He was rushed to the vet where he was diagnosed with Parvo.  The little guy was even closer to the Rainbow Bridge than when he was rescued.  He was a resilient little rascal.  After being released from tree ICU, he needed a place to go where he could be separated from other animals and everyone was vetted.  In walks my aunt...again.  She had 'Chip' for a week before bringing him to Easter dinner.  She had a hunch he might be just what I was looking for.  Somehow a young, medium male dog turned into a small, male, actual puppy.  He was nothing I was looking for...and then my aunt put him in my arms.  I was done for.

At 10 weeks old, Patrick and 'Chip' met for the first time.  I've never been so nervous.  I was smitten with this little guy, but if Patrick had any problems at all, I would walk away.  As his protector, he's my first concern.  Patrick was curious who this puppy was, but he mostly ignored him.  Until we went on a walk.  We met another dog (usually a dicey meeting). The puppy was more than happy to say hi.  Patrick watched.  Then decided to get closer.  The puppy wondered to smell a tree, and Patrick almost ripped his leash out of my hands to get to him to heard him back.  They even played when we got back in the house.  This crazy puppy idea was actually working.  After that first meeting, I made the decision to make this little guy a part of our family.

'Chipmunk' wasn't going to work.  But Marco will.  And sweet little Marco will be officially joining our family this week.  This transition thankfully has been able to be a little slower than most adoptions.  We've been able to do this in terms both Patrick and Marco have been comfortable with.   Both boys have had a little time to get to know each other.  We've all had time to transition to being a family of 3.  I now have an almost 6 year old Parsons Terrier/boxer and a 12 week old rat terrier/beagle/(we're pretty sure Bassett hound) mix.  For those keeping score, that's a 6 year old smart, high strung with kick of high strung as well as a baby high strung escape artist.  I have clearly lost my mind.  And I'm going to love every minute of it.