2nd week: Weezie has been going through what I sincerely hope is just a developmental phase: chewing! Of course I expected her to explore the house and its contents with her mouth, but I was unprepared for how intent she is on exploring my body parts with those needle-sharp puppy teeth. On the advice of all the best dog-training books, when she mouths me, I scream. Usually this is mere theater. Sometimes, however, the screams are more heartfelt and sincere. Meanwhile, it would be so easy to end up running after her all day saying, "No, No, No, No" as she careens from thing to thing. I try very hard to stay patient, and use "Ack" when she's doing something I would rather she wouldn't, redirecting her to something that's more desirable. "Ack, don't chew the leg of the chair. Here: get this Nylabone!" "Ack, don't do the backstroke in the water dish. Here, let's run through the living room with this furry snake." She goes to her first-ever obedience class, and I begin practicing sits, downs, fronts, and recalls. We also practice having her walk with her little head held high, looking at me. We have a wonderful new toy: it's a dumbbell on a string, with the bar wrapped in sheepskin. She just loves chasing it, catching it, and then heading off with it in her mouth, head held high. Note to myself: buy more toys!
4th week: When Weezie arrived, many things were removed from floor level. But as her legs shoot up in big growth spurts, things are having to be moved higher and higher, or buried in drawers and closets. My sister had warned me that constant supervision was an absolute must with a pup, but I had failed to internalize just how much trouble one can get into when left alone for five minutes. Once I emerged from the kitchen to find her prancing across the living room with John's green rubber boot stuck on her head. Another time she crept under the bed with a tube of Matte Mauve lipstick filched from my dressing table, and proceeded to do an instant makeover on herself. Toys are distributed throughout the house, handy for quick grabbing. I have also stashed treats in every room, plus in all of my coat pockets, pants pockets, and jacket pockets. Sometimes they tumble out at work, much to the amusement of my staff. I need constant quick access to treats, just in case she does something wonderful that I want to click and treat. Note to myself: buy more treats!
6th week: I have decorated Weezie's crate for Christmas, and am using it as a present table. Ah, the frustrations of housebreaking. Within two days of her arrival, Eloise would go to the door upon being let out of her crate, after dining, and at bedtime. She is always dry IN her crate. But the time that continues to elude us is "after playing." When Eloise is out of her crate, she is in constant play and motion, and wet spots sprout like little flowers. Whenever this happens, I shout "NO!", take her outside, praise her, clean up the spot, then take a rolled-up newspaper and slap myself sharply on the head. "Bad Jane! Bad!" Again I have failed to read the signs that she should be going out. My sister laughs at me, and simultaneously comforts me: "Puppies don't plan well." But all of the brags that I have heard about perfectly housebroken puppies in just one week, with absolutely no wet spots in the house, make me feel inferior and incompetent. Is this how parents feel when everyone else's little kids in playgroup can sing "Polly Wolly Doodle" and yours only hums? Note to myself: buy more Nature's Miracle and paper towels!
8th week: Weezie has been dry in the house for 3 WHOLE DAYS IN A ROW! I am very proud. I carefully wash her and brush her up so that she will look exceptionally pretty, and take her to Maureen and Dave's for a visit. While we stuff envelopes, she proceeds to pee and poo over their entire house, pausing only for a good roll in the mud. I am humiliated. Dave and Maureen are gracious. On the other hand, she did come when I called her. At this stage in our training, this was just a fortunate coincidence. We are also working on putting "leap" on command. John wants her to sit for a pet and not get his pants muddy. I want her jumping up on me in training. Unfortunately, right now she has things reversed: she has stopped jumping up on me, and always jumps up on John. I hesitate to explain to John why this might be happening. I work on putting "leap" in place, but actually have to lie on the floor and encourage her to trample me before I can get her to come up on me when I'm standing. Kneeling is harder still, but eventually we get there. Then I randomize "leap" and "sit" as greeting behaviors. The right response gets a cookie eaten right out of Mom's mouth. Weezie enjoys the game. Note to myself: for the time being, only take Weezie on visits to dog people's homes. A leaping peeing puppy is not the best houseguest.
10th week: Weezie is now too big to squeeze herself under my
chair. John had been warning her that this day would come. He felt
that she was in danger of falling asleep under there, experiencing
a growth spurt, and being stuck for all time or until we called the
fire department to extract her. I feel kind of blue: my little girl
is growing up so fast! We practice our leash walking out on the neighborhood
sidewalks, now that she has had all of her shots. (I was too paranoid
about her picking up some terrible dog disease to let her walk on
public pavements before this.) She had been doing great in the yard,
but the added distraction of the big wide world makes her temporarily
forget. When she gets to the end of the leash I stop and stand still.
When she looks back at me, I praise her and then head in the other
direction. When she is walking within 2 feet of me, on a loose lead,
and keeping an eye on me, I click and treat. We go back and forth
on the sidewalk in front of the house. I call it a day when we have
successfully gotten all the way down to the end of the block and back,
both ways, without having to stop and reverse directions. Note to
myself: by next week we'll be able to go all the way around the block!
