First let me start by
trying to catch my breath. I don't think
I need to work out anymore; I have a young, yellow, Labrador puppy named
Truman!
What once was a "too
good to be true, just bought a beautiful, yellow lab puppy- came when you
called him, no accidents in the house the first two days. So a few flip flops
were casualties, as well as a roll or two of TP?
I knew what I signed on
for; I saw the movie, "Marley &Me". Labrador Retrievers tend to have a long
"puppyhood"...about 2,3 or 4 years.
Life with Truman is like
living out the movie, "Groundhog
Day", with Bill Murray, where my day infinitely repeats itself. I keep telling myself, "sure, I can get
through this- he will be such a great adult dog"..."hang in
there".
Now? I think he is my nemesis. Hopefully this is just intermittent and temporary.
Now Truman bullies me on
a daily basis. He runs from me when it's time to go out or into his Kennel. I
think he is convinced that the floor vents are strategically located throughout
the house for his convenience to use as urinal drains. The poop piles just keep
getting bigger and bigger, along with my tears and vile vocabulary.
Cleaning up after Truman
is a definite appetite suppressant. The
Berber carpet on the stairs is starting to develop a haphazard pattern. The
many shredable ( Is shredable even a word?) items in the house just multiply. I
think our trash service may start charging us more for all of the garbage
Truman creates.
I have, by no choice of my own, started to
become a "minimalist". Who needs more than one or two pairs of shoes?
Or toilet paper when I am in the bathroom and he comes and takes it before my very eyes, rendering me helpless and
trapped . (Toilet paper is very expensive these days, it is quite a
commodity in this house right now, especially since he inhales his very
expensive dog food without chewing it, only to regurgitate it back up, and
might possibly recycle that.)
Note to everyone: If you
are in the market for a large breed puppy, look at the size of their paws as
well as the size of their head before seriously considering what your
household, bank account and sanity can tolerate!
Our first outing to Pet
Smart and our new puppy actually seems to reach celebrity status as far as
attention? When at least a dozen customers and employees stop and say to you,
“WOW, he's going to be a reeeaalllllly big dog!
Look at the size of those paws!!!!" We couldn't get out of their in
less than an hour in a half because people kept stopping us to comment on the
appearance and size of Truman. I wasn't concerned a bit. It wasn’t until our first visit with a new
Vet and he asked me if I have ever heard of, “Clifford, The Big Red Dog”, that I started to emerge from my state of
denial about being able to handle a dog of this size, work, and give my
children the attention they need. This
would also include keeping the house clean, with progressively fewer contents,
as they get eaten or chewed to what is unrecognizable… and keep my nerves intact.
Short-term memory!? I
have been through this before, but with a female German-bred, German Shepard,
named "Abby". This was nine years ago. A" friend" (now former friend) who breeds them, gave Abby to me because she couldn't take care of her.
"Friend", had recently
undergone hip replacement surgery and her husband travelled all of the time.
This beautiful Shepard was already five months old and
"trained". I'm guessing that
after exhausting myself just trying to get "Abby" into the Suburban,
"Friend" was trying to refrain from, what had to be, the most
diabolical laughter..."muwhahahahahaha, sucka"!!!
My children were small at the time that Abby
came to live with us. Did I say that I was told that she was
"Trained"? I guess my understanding of "trained" varies
significantly from that of "Friends".
During the day, while my
husband at the time, was working , the kids and I were held hostage by Abby.
She was huge and it was impossible to contain her. Kennel, bath, having friends
and family over? Nah...Abby wanted no part of any of that.
Perhaps
"friend" thought that as long as Abby didn't maim or kill the members
of my little immediate family that little bit of loyalty went along way and
constituted as, "fully- trained"? People outside of our household?
They were subject to being attacked, or at least frightened to the point that
they refused to come to our house anymore. The one advantage to that? Some
relatives (ex father-in-law, wasn't seen for months! ) or Jehovah's witnesses, that I wouldn't want to visit, stopped
visiting; thus establishing boundaries that I wish I had in place years before.
Even my own father, who is retired from the FBI as an undercover, special
agent, said he would not come to our door until we got rid of Abby. Abby would
poop huge piles in the house and then eat them. (Saved me a fortune on dog
food!) However, her apres-meal activity was to knock down my two year old
daughter and lick her face.
The final straw was when my oldest son had a
friend over and Abby lunged at his neck as he was walking up the stairs. I happened
to be there just in time to grab her by her collar.
It was time... I was sad
to see her go, but she was a major liability and we couldn't live in
damage-control mode anymore. She went to work for the Cobb Co. K-9 unit, under
the condition that she could be trained. We're so proud. Hence, I forgot about
all of that; like a woman who gives birth, somehow forgets about the tremendous
pain she suffered and later has additional children. It must be God's plan, so the human race can
propagate, and people will continue to get pets.
Back to Truman. I didn't
care...I was already in love with little, "Truman". Great passenger
rider; actually came when called, didn't bark, didn't eliminate in the house.
That was the beginning. Labs are VERY smart dogs. I am now at the point where I
am afraid he may corner me into his Kennel and lock me in.
We no longer need our pest exterminator
service, or need to use the filters in the pool, Truman loves to eat bugs,
leaves, basically anything he can catch or get a hold of. I think he has an
affinity for Haivanas flip flips. Not that I am thinking that he is so smart
that he can read brand names....he just seems to gravitate towards those when I
forget to close my closet door. As far as
actually trying to adapt to a "minimalist" way of living? Why can't he shred the ugly, leather,
Recliner chair that I can't stand and caved to, for all to see when you walk
into the house (No, I didn't purchase this; yes, it's a point of contention).
As I type this, Marley, I
mean Truman ( I, as well as a few neighbors and later, his Obedience Trainer
have accidentally referred to him as Marley several times since his terroristic
acts have ensued.) is now trying to get a hold of my, "Reef" flip
flop, toes included. He then ventured to
the corner of my laptop. While trying to
catch my breath and wipe the slobber off of my scratched up forearm, I push him
away as I verbally correct him and try not to scream obscenities.
I'd kill him, but he is
so damn cute. What keeps me from killing him? The way he greets me in the
morning, the way he follows me everywhere, the way he looks at me when we go
for walks, watching him when he sleeps, and his immediate loyalty to me and my
entire family. Plus, Truman loves Karaoke- although he isn't very good at
it.
You must have a high tolerance for frustration, slobbery, slimy things; not mind visiting a Pet Store very frequently, the ability to quickly forgive, hence, adapt to losing sentimental or expensive items … and contained acreage.
Changes in Truman: Almost 6 months, 60 pounds.
He now looks full-grown
and jumps like a Kangaroo. That once
“cute” loyalty when Truman followed me everywhere? It is NOT cute anymore. I can’t put on my
makeup without him leaning those 60lbs. on me, or basically attempt any
task, while he is outside of his kennel.
Now he weighs 130lbs!
“Cute” can segue to
“highly annoying” rather quickly in any relationship; like with my ex-husband.
For example, when my ex
and I went to France and Italy years ago; I adored him the first four days of
our thirteen day trip. By day five?
Contempt, feelings of wanting to flee, or at least take separate cabs hi-jacked those previous favorable feelings.
Truman is also becoming
increasingly more expensive; to the point that I may soon be sharing his bowl
with him. 54.00 per bag of food that lasts about three weeks. He has eaten
through three leashes in one month, including the leather training leash
purchased from his trainer.
Dietary changes: He has recently developed rather expensive taste. What used to be the flip
flops, socks, molly bolts and razors has
evolved to my Prada eye glasses, Neighbor’s Polo glasses, my favorite
Merrell shoes, Dish Towels (only my favorites from Sur La Table). Let me now
add, the rug my sister brought me from Morocco. Tears...
Truman loves to B-line
into my closet to brush through my Athletic and Business attire, to get as much
hair and stink on as many of my clothes as possible.
My changes: I now live on
Zyrtec, added to my Advair and I am considering switching from Chanel perfume
to Febreeze to ensure I don’t smell like Dog everywhere I go.
Wholesale clubs – now a
must. I have to load up on Lint Remover Rollers, TP, Febreeze, Chew Toys and
Bones in Bulk, oh, plus wine.
To get through this
puppyhood, I am considering Valium at this point…I can’t drink during the day.
Hummm…
I am too afraid to show
up for the Obedience classes I signed up for. We’ve missed 3 out of 4. I feel like it is me who needs the Obedience
training to get through one class without having a severe anxiety attack. I am too nervous about what Truman is going
to do, that I don’t take in what I am being told to do to correct him.
On a brighter note, I
have taught Truman to sit (not stay though),
so he sits only for a second. He
can shake, “kiss”, but that often comes with a price, because he doesn’t know
his own strength and a kiss may cause tears and a possible concussion.
More to
come...
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