It’s 5:30 a.m. and my husband gets up to take the dogs out. Lucy is now crate trained, so we moved her crate downstairs into the kitchen where she sleeps like a little angel.
In the morning, she’s revved up like a Daytona race car.
As soon as Dave lets Lucy out of her crate she pees from excitement. I wish I could say the same thing everytime I see Dave, but that’s not how I react when I see him. Frankly, I think he’s a little “pissed off” about that. Anyway, the dogs go outside and do their business and when they come inside they both race up the stairs to our bedroom.
Dave wants to make sure Lucy doesn’t create any additional surprises on the floor (even though he just took her out 5 minutes ago), so what does he do with the revved up Daytona race car? He puts her on our bed. Where I am peacefully sleeping. Deaf.
Next thing I know, there is this ball of fur climbing over my face, then a tongue licking my face followed by a firm CHOMP! with her needle like teeth right on my lip. I say a few swear words and put my hands up to my mouth….blood.
I’ve drawn blood peacefully sleeping by the Devil Dog. I did nothing wrong….I swear.
“DAAAAAAAAVVVEEE! Can you get me a tissue please so I can place a tourniquet on my wound from the DEVIL DOG?”
Like most puppies, Lucy likes to bite. Mostly your phelanges. If they are sticking out anywhere (under the desk, from under the sheets, on the floor, when you get out of the shower, when you’re playing with her), you need to either curl your toes and fingers inside of something or have cat-like reflexes so you don’t get bit. She’s also an ankle biter.
I never thought I’d live with an ankle biter, but there you have it.
Sarge is not immune to this strategy. Since Lucy’s range of sight is at the level of Sarge’s tail, it becomes a play toy for Lucy. She chases and bites it until he turns around and gently but FIRMLY places his huge jaws on her neck bringing her down to the ground. She also bites his paws. So, she’s aware that our hands and his paws are pretty much the same and also considered phelanges as far as she is concerned.
Since she has now mastered climbing up and down the stairs by herself, she also likes to drag things with her: toys, shirts, dirty socks from Matt’s room, cords going to somewhere from Matt’s room. Once she gets the item in her mouth she shakes her head uncontrollably to kill the evil prey before she gets bored with it and moves onto other cords under my desk.
I was working one day and all of a sudden, my mouse mysteriously moved. Quite slowly, it creeped upward and then it just disappeared onto the floor. Next was my keyboard. As I was typing my sentence of, “And, you’ll just love the fragrances of all of various products”, it tragically turned into “And, you’ll just love the fragrances of alllloofdjkdkvaoiruiosudifffffff.”
Devil Dog got a hold of cords underneath my desk (she likes to lay on my toes after she’s bludgeoned them to death with her needle like teeth), and pulled them toward her.
So much for a productive day at the office.
We’re still trying to master the art of going to the bathroom OUTSIDE. I actually know a few adults who still have issues mastering the art of going to the bathroom INSIDE, so I don’t put too much pressure on her. But, as soon as I see her go in the house, we hightail it outside so she knows where she’s supposed to go. And, for those who think you should rub their face in their own feces are animal abusers. This tactic does not work. I’ve tried it on humans…that doesn’t work either – it just pisses them off.
So, we run outside about a dozen times a day and sometimes she goes, and other times she forgets why she’s out there. Like a child, she gets sidetracked with a stone that she wants to eat, or a branch that looks good to chew on. I can see what she’s thinking: “Why is Sarge lunging for that squirrel? Why is mommy always saying that word…what is it again??? Potty. Yeah, that’s it. Potty. What am I supposed to do with that word? What is it…..oooh….gotta poop.”
“Good Girl Lucy! You went potty!”
“I guess potty means poop. Gosh, that branch tasted good….Oh! Mulch!!!!!!”
Needless to say, I’ve done alot of laundry over the past week and used up most of my rags in the house from cleaning up after her. Luckily though, most of the mistakes have been on the floor and not the rug.
I’ve also discovered that Lucy is not the athletic type. Sarge likes to go for long walks. We’ve cut our walks down quite a bit since Sarge has been under the weather (long story), but also because I want to get Lucy used to walking on a lead. We get about halfway around the block and she starts whining. She stops and lays down.
Really? You’re a 10 week old revved up Daytona Race Car Puppy and you’re tired from a walk halfway around the block?
I pick her up. She seems satisfied for about 20 feet and then wants down again.
I have to admit that I like to pick her up as much as possible since I know in about a month or two I won’t be able to any longer because she’s growing so fast. We make our first trip to the vet tomorrow since she weighed in at 8 pounds the first time. I’m gonna take a guess that she’s doubled that amount.
We shall see!