about pets
Apr. 30th, 2009 02:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
smg01A neighbor adopted a dog about a month ago. She told me that I was her inspiration (the neighbors see me walking Tom a lot). He's a sweet Akita, about two years old, that she brought home from the shelter. We run into each other frequently and often stop to chat. Hutchie (her dog) is still making the adjustment and there some destructive separation anxiety issues that are at work. Yesterday, C asked me if I'd ever considered returning Tom. I admitted to her that I had. We talked about that a little bit and about how things do get better. I think C felt a little better, hopefully I gave her enough of a boost to get through the current rough patch.
The conversation got me to thinking, though, so I decided to just lay out some of the stuff that's been going through my mind.
Tom's a sweet, smart, funny dog. He's also really energetic and challenging and sometimes exhausting. I knew when I got a puppy (he was 9 month old), I was getting something with a lot of energy, who would require a lot of time, attention, and patience. But I didn't really know it until I brought him home. Going from an elderly dog to a pup is quite an adjustment. I had to reexamine some assumptions that I've always held about myself. For example, I think perhaps I'm not quite the patient, unruffled person that I like to think that I am. But we pushed through together, and things are good now. And I think they'll only continue to get better and better. Here are some of the things that I observed and/or helped me through.
1. I wish it were just hyperbole when I say that I considered whether I should keep Tom or not. It isn't. There were several times in the first two - three months when I seriously turned over the thought of whether it would be best for both of us if I would just admit failure and return Tom. I didn't do it because a) I didn't want to be one of those people who returned a dog because it was too hard; and b) the breeder lives some distance from me so there would be some logistics involved. That gave me enough space to think and rethink things.
2. A pattern began to emerge after awhile. When we would have really rough, difficult days--the kind of days that would make me say "I may have to end this"--it would almost immediately be followed by a really good one. Tom would do something wonderful, and I'd get my second wind. In fact, the difficult episodes became easier to deal with because I'd tell myself that in a day or two, Tom would take a big step forward behavior-wise. I would say that at minimum, that has been the case 95% of the time. A rough patch is immediately followed a noticeable overall improvement.
3. Doggie daycare. This cannot be overemphasized for me. That one day a week that I take him in (it's often two days now because I spoil him), was a real godsend for those first several weeks. Sometimes that was the main thing that was getting me through. "Okay this is awful. Tomorrow he's going to daycare. He'll run and play. He'll come home tired and sleepy. I'll get a break." We could probably get by without it now--it's mainly just a fun and helpful thing for both him and me. For those first twelve weeks or so, doggie daycare was a lifeline.
4. I rediscovered my sense of humor about some things. I've always been one to recognize and appreciate the ridiculous in situations. Somehow I lost a little of that. When I got it back, when I was able recognize that even though some situations were really aggravating, they were also really funny, things started to take a turn for the better.
5. At about the six or seven month mark of ownership, I suddenly realized that it had been a long time since Tom had made me cry. It's funny. I've made that comment to a few people. Everyone that I've ever said that to has looked at me with surprise and said "I thought I was the only one." So I will admit it publicly here now: Sometimes I got frustrated and discouraged enough with my dog that he would make me cry. But it got better.
6. Various people reassured me over time that you just have to hang in there and keep working, because it gets better. They were right. Tom is far from perfectly behaved. He still barks and lunges after motorcycles and certain cars sometimes. He still sometimes gets overexcited when he sees another dog while we're out walking. He barks more than I would like when he's looking outside and sees a person, or a cat, or a squirrel, or some object or creature that only he can see. But all of these things have gotten better and show every sign of continuing to do so. *knock on wood* I hope I haven't just jinxed things.
7. The best thing about puppies is that they become dogs. Tom is a month shy of his second birthday. He's still, I think, more puppy than dog. But I see light at the end of the tunnel and I think within the next few months he's going to fully transition into dog. And I think he's going to be a splendid dog. Well, he's already splendid. He'll be splendider.
I'm thinking back to the conversation I had with C yesterday. I think it was a relief to her to hear that "yeah, there were a couple of times that I wanted to give up." I think a lot of times dog people give off the impression that training and living with a dog is a piece of cake. Just a few waves of the hand, say and do the right things, and you'll have a perfect dog. Easy as pie. (Where I've really seen that attitude is on listservs. Fortunately for me, I've mostly run into supportive people in my everyday and everyday online life.) But I think the know-it-alls often either consciously or unconsciously make owners who are inexperienced or having trouble feel like crap if they have a lot of difficulty. I think it's a lot more helpful to know that sometimes you're going to feel like a failure. Sometimes you're going to want to give up. Sometimes it's just really, really hard. But it gets better. And it's all worth it when it does.
The conversation got me to thinking, though, so I decided to just lay out some of the stuff that's been going through my mind.
Tom's a sweet, smart, funny dog. He's also really energetic and challenging and sometimes exhausting. I knew when I got a puppy (he was 9 month old), I was getting something with a lot of energy, who would require a lot of time, attention, and patience. But I didn't really know it until I brought him home. Going from an elderly dog to a pup is quite an adjustment. I had to reexamine some assumptions that I've always held about myself. For example, I think perhaps I'm not quite the patient, unruffled person that I like to think that I am. But we pushed through together, and things are good now. And I think they'll only continue to get better and better. Here are some of the things that I observed and/or helped me through.
1. I wish it were just hyperbole when I say that I considered whether I should keep Tom or not. It isn't. There were several times in the first two - three months when I seriously turned over the thought of whether it would be best for both of us if I would just admit failure and return Tom. I didn't do it because a) I didn't want to be one of those people who returned a dog because it was too hard; and b) the breeder lives some distance from me so there would be some logistics involved. That gave me enough space to think and rethink things.
2. A pattern began to emerge after awhile. When we would have really rough, difficult days--the kind of days that would make me say "I may have to end this"--it would almost immediately be followed by a really good one. Tom would do something wonderful, and I'd get my second wind. In fact, the difficult episodes became easier to deal with because I'd tell myself that in a day or two, Tom would take a big step forward behavior-wise. I would say that at minimum, that has been the case 95% of the time. A rough patch is immediately followed a noticeable overall improvement.
3. Doggie daycare. This cannot be overemphasized for me. That one day a week that I take him in (it's often two days now because I spoil him), was a real godsend for those first several weeks. Sometimes that was the main thing that was getting me through. "Okay this is awful. Tomorrow he's going to daycare. He'll run and play. He'll come home tired and sleepy. I'll get a break." We could probably get by without it now--it's mainly just a fun and helpful thing for both him and me. For those first twelve weeks or so, doggie daycare was a lifeline.
4. I rediscovered my sense of humor about some things. I've always been one to recognize and appreciate the ridiculous in situations. Somehow I lost a little of that. When I got it back, when I was able recognize that even though some situations were really aggravating, they were also really funny, things started to take a turn for the better.
5. At about the six or seven month mark of ownership, I suddenly realized that it had been a long time since Tom had made me cry. It's funny. I've made that comment to a few people. Everyone that I've ever said that to has looked at me with surprise and said "I thought I was the only one." So I will admit it publicly here now: Sometimes I got frustrated and discouraged enough with my dog that he would make me cry. But it got better.
6. Various people reassured me over time that you just have to hang in there and keep working, because it gets better. They were right. Tom is far from perfectly behaved. He still barks and lunges after motorcycles and certain cars sometimes. He still sometimes gets overexcited when he sees another dog while we're out walking. He barks more than I would like when he's looking outside and sees a person, or a cat, or a squirrel, or some object or creature that only he can see. But all of these things have gotten better and show every sign of continuing to do so. *knock on wood* I hope I haven't just jinxed things.
7. The best thing about puppies is that they become dogs. Tom is a month shy of his second birthday. He's still, I think, more puppy than dog. But I see light at the end of the tunnel and I think within the next few months he's going to fully transition into dog. And I think he's going to be a splendid dog. Well, he's already splendid. He'll be splendider.
I'm thinking back to the conversation I had with C yesterday. I think it was a relief to her to hear that "yeah, there were a couple of times that I wanted to give up." I think a lot of times dog people give off the impression that training and living with a dog is a piece of cake. Just a few waves of the hand, say and do the right things, and you'll have a perfect dog. Easy as pie. (Where I've really seen that attitude is on listservs. Fortunately for me, I've mostly run into supportive people in my everyday and everyday online life.) But I think the know-it-alls often either consciously or unconsciously make owners who are inexperienced or having trouble feel like crap if they have a lot of difficulty. I think it's a lot more helpful to know that sometimes you're going to feel like a failure. Sometimes you're going to want to give up. Sometimes it's just really, really hard. But it gets better. And it's all worth it when it does.