Motherhood: Our Family's First Dog

For those of us who haven't been living under a rock for the last couple of weeks, it's hard to escape the high drama and emotionally charged atmosphere in the community surrounding all of the Board of Ed discussions, teacher contracts, tax concerns, and education budget issues that have come following the governor's cuts in state aid to our schools.

I was feeling compelled to see if we couldn't call an end to some of the vitriol that has seeped into posts I've seen on Patch lately, or at the very least ask that those with the harshest comments to identify themselves. Upon further reflection, I thought that what we really need right now is to stop languishing in the cesspool of negativity, and instead think about something happy for a while. Enter stage left: puppies.

Our lives were recently blessed, Easter weekend no less, with the presence of a perfectly lovely, hirsute, ball of beneficence in the form of a ten-week-old yellow Labrador retriever. Our lives have been only mildly upended by this, though I will say if I was behind in housework before, catching up on it now seems an unattainable goal. There's something about 10 or 15 breaks a day that can interrupt a person's routine. And yet, this sweet bundle of love and affection has brought an indisputable light into our lives, in these uncertain times in which we live.

I finally caved into what started as a slow trickle, built to a steady stream, and ended with an incessant water-drip torture: "When are we getting a dog?" I had been hearing from the boys for months now. I put it off as long as my conscience could reasonably allow. "You know, all boys should grow up with a dog," my mother's best friend advised me on a visit last year, and so the words stuck in the craw of my subconscious mind these last several months. The old excuses weren't holding water anymore.

"I can't be changing diapers and house training a dog at the same time!" was my original mantra, but my younger one's been out of diapers for almost three years now. This was followed by, "I need them both in school at least part-time, most days of the week." My younger one started kindergarten eight months ago. Time was closing in.

Then it was, "We need to get the floors redone first," which was completed five months ago. I was out of excuses, and it dawned on me that the perfect time to get a puppy, the time when things would really "calm down," would be when the kids were heading off to college, and that sort of defeated the point of the whole exercise.

I was a bit nervous, admittedly, in the weeks approaching the "adoption." I had not been responsible for the well being of a dog in many, many years, but could I handle it along with the kids and a house this time?

What was most unhelpful were the people who were relatively new dog owners who would say things like, "Are you crazy?" It was less scary coming from someone who didn't own a dog: I could expect a litany of reasons not to get one from them. But people who had somewhat recently acquired a canine protesting our decision? Et tu Brute? I thought we were on the same team. Fortunately, most long-time dog owners that I know were very supportive, and told us how much the dog would add to our family over the years.

The first couple of nights were brutal, I will not lie, but that is mostly because, just as when I had my first son, I had no idea what in the Sam Hill I was doing. Every time the poor little thing whimpered, I was running to her aid. "Did she need to go out? Was she scared? Did she miss her Mom or her brother and sisters?"

I raced downstairs to her crate in the hopes of getting to her before she awakened our sons. I would take her outside almost 10 times overnight for mini-walks in our backyard, and then stumbling back into bed for another 45 minutes of "sleep" before I could look forward to my next shift. I distinctly remember on the second day, in my backyard at 4 in the morning, probably my seventh trip out since I had "gone to bed," questioning my sanity, and wondering how much my children would hate me if we bought the puppy a one-way ticket on a Greyhound back to the breeder. That dark shadow passed, thankfully, and was replaced soon by a new approach to the situation.

By the third day, looking no doubt like the walking dead, I approached a Mom at my sons' school whom I know has a relatively young dog (I was finding that like Moms who have older kids, folks with older dogs did not seem to recall how they managed in the early days), and asked her what she did when her puppy cried at night.

"Let her cry it out," was the answer I received.

"Even if it wakes the kids up?" I asked.

"Yes, you have to let her cry it out," she replied, "or she'll just work you."

"What if she needs to go to the bathroom?" I asked, feeling a little perkier.

"She needs to learn how to make it through the night," she answered with a confidence I certainly did not possess. I walked away from the conversation with a new resolve, and hoped that night four would be a new beginning.

We decided to try and make it a whole night without a break, and over the next few evenings, our puppy managed, with much protest, to make it with only one trip outside. I was having flashing backs to trying to "Ferber-ize" my first son, the method of letting the baby cry it out, while every fiber of one's new mother being is saying "run to that baby."

The Ferber methodology never worked on my son, though I think it aged me several years from the stress of it. Luckily, puppies are different.

By the seventh night, either from her very evolved puppy sense of maturity, or out of our own sheer exhaustion, neither I nor my husband was awakened by any whimpers. Was she finally feeling at home? Had her bladder enlarged beyond the size of a grape? Who knows, but it was starting to feel a bit more doable just a week in.

Then there's the nipping, with those delightful pin-like puppy teeth. This too is a trial and error experiment. We tried things from the "Dog Whisperer" (watching this show was universal advice from many we spoke to, though where was "The Baby Whisperer" when my first child was born?). We bought books, we asked other dog owners, and then we tried something different that seemed to work for us, but it is a process. She still wants to nip at the children more than adults, but we're learning how to manage that. In the first days, it seemed every word out of my mouth, besides "Good Potty!" was "Chew this! Not that!" She is learning though, and is a very responsive student, especially when it involves a treat.

Then there are the hidden benefits. The squirrels that had begun to treat my deck as an outdoor café and a favorite spot for an afternoon siesta seem to have largely moved on. She is on the constant prowl for food, with the upside being my kitchen floor has never looked so spotless, though now, my husband wryly observed, "it just smells like dog breath."

Bringing a dog into the family fold is a big responsibility to be sure, and you can certainly never give them too much love and attention; although parenthood prepared me for that, somewhat.

What our puppy has brought into our home is a reminder of what life is about: that at the end of the day it is about love, and if it's a little messy, who cares? 

Seeing our sons with their new pet defies any doubts I may have had that this was the right time to get a dog. She is beside herself with happiness to see us in the morning or when we come home; she never wakes up on the wrong side of the crate; she's grateful for every morsel, of food or attention, that is lavished upon her; and even if she has days when she finds us less than perfect, we can be rest assured that she won't be posting about it on a puppy blog.