My Training Days

Let me just say there were some adjustments made in the household after I arrived! Mom had never raised a puppy on her own before but had dogs growing up. Dad seemed to be the experienced one in puppy training. Before leaving the shelter they had to watch a video on potty and crate training. Mom confesses to being a bit naive thinking I would sleep through the night and not mess in my crate and bark to let everyone know about it. Dad took care of everything the first few nights until I got the hang of things.  Mom got really good at watching me start to sniff around the floor when she would grab me and run down the stairs to outside. Oh, did I mention we lived on the second floor? Technically two and a half flights of stairs each way every time I had to potty. Then there were the PRIs (puppy related injuries) banging chins, you name it, it happend to poor mom.  One day dad was sitting in the chair off the kitchen when I let him know I wanted up there. So I got picked up and held and cuddled while mom was screaming "No, she's in training!" She then came to the conclusion that I had become a bit spoiled in the shelter while being cared for. For the next several months I was kept in the kitchen with a puppy gate separating me from the front of the house. So I proceeded to destroy everything in sight. Mom again confesses to being naive when it comes to the chewing. She thought I would stop tearing things up once the puppy teeth were gone (note to readers still chewing two years later). Here is a list of my crimes during my kitchen days:

• Inherited cat bed with zipper covering
• Gym bag on floor
• Storage basket on floor
• Vintage kitchen wallpaper (mom would come out of the bathroom to find a mess)
• Bathroom rug(s)
• Shoes, shoes, shoes, and the tips off of the laces were my speciality
• Original oak woodwork
• Corner of island kitchen cabinet
• All toys except rubber Kong

I'll finish the list when I write next about being allowed in the front rooms! Thanks for reading! Love, Dolly.