Tag Archives: puppy

Troublemaker: The Quarantine Puppy

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Like so many people sitting at home to work over the past six or so weeks of “shelter-in-place,” it seemed like the perfect timing to get that puppy I had been contemplating for months.

Since the boys were clearly stressed by the sudden change in their lives and unable to say things like, “Gosh, Mom, I’m feeling really stressed and unsettled by this rapid change and don’t have great coping mechanisms,” they expressed this by fighting over who would get to sleep with our little cavadoodle. They cuddled up with Mitzy any time they were overwhelmed with big feelings. They found an outlet in loving a fuzzy little animal. So when a friend posted about Animal Lifeline on Facebook, we got our application in and waited for the next transport of puppies rescued from puppy mills or kill shelters in other states.

Scanning through a dozen or so photos of available puppies the following week, Mr. Ornery zeroed in on a tiny pure black puppy. “Look at those eyes, Mom,” he said, “that puppy needs us” (or the other way around). A few hours later, the boys were cuddling a black lab mix and I was signing paperwork.

All the way home, the boys argued over a name before

Amazon reminds me I purchased this in 2009

settling on Malachi. I tirelessly argued that was a boy’s name. The moment my friend texted a series of suggested M-names and I read her daughter’s suggestion of Mocha, I knew that was it. The next day, Little Guy came running into the room singing, “Grande, non-fat no-whip Mocha. Grande, non-fat no-whip Mocha, where’s my puppy Moka?” using my favorite coffee drink to remember a new name.  I laughed and I switched the spelling to match a book we’ve enjoyed.

 

Sure it sounds like a great idea to get a quarantine puppy. Why not pile on a lot more work? With the current crisis level of stress, I had started to sleep 8-9 hours a night. Now I sleep 6-7 and beg the puppy to go back to sleep in the early mornings as I lay there restlessly unable to doze off. With the constant disruption of children as I try to pay attention to Zoom meetings or put thought to paper for work, now every 20-30 minutes I have to figure out what the puppy is chewing on and take her out to pee.

But I can handle this, because having a new puppy is just like having boys:

Little Moka can’t come into the house without tracking in dirt or carrying in bits of nature. Mostly because she loves to dig the black dirt all over the sidewalk right in front of the door – so that everyone now drags in dirt! It’s especially awesome when it rains.

She contributes to the constant “I can’t find my shoe” issue. It’s been three days and I still can’t find the left flip-flop and my right running shoe. And I don’t know whether to blame boys or a puppy who picks it up and carries it around the house.

She leaves wet blotches in the carpet much like the boys do when they spill their drink and “forget” to clean it up or mention it until I find it with my socked feet.

An innocent appearing behavior, such as licking the front porch railing quickly becomes destructive and I think about all the repairs I’ll some day have to do because of the constant flurry of activity of all these little creatures in the house.

There are some lessons learned, as well. For example, when leaving the puppy home all day with the older boys while I’m at work, I might have needed to specify to remove the “solid waste” BEFORE using the spray and wet paper towel to rub the carpet! (Even magic Folex hasn’t been able to touch this stain.)

Also would have helped to be a little more specific in my note to the 11-year-old that read, “Please take puppy out every hour and feed at 12 noon.” When I unknowingly gave the puppy dinner and she groaned as she still tried to eat with a belly double its normal size, I learned that Mr. Ornery read that as “feed puppy every hour” as well as take her out.

Despite all this (and the continuing destruction that I’m sure we’ll have), I don’t regret the decision. The other night, on The Little Guy’s ninth birthday, the puppy jumped off the couch and landed on her front leg wrong. She howled in pain. The boys ran to find me and I held the puppy tight. Wrestling with whether she needed to get to the emergency vet, with time she started walking on it again. As she tucked in to sleep that evening and the younger boys cuddled into my arms on the couch watching a movie, they wept with worry about the puppy. Reassuring them, I thought, you know what, you boys are going to be okay. You have tremendous love for another creature. You have deep empathy for someone in pain. You find joy in the physical connection (even if it is a puppy licking your face). And you are learning more responsibility.

Welcome to the family, Moka. We’re all glad you’re here.

Helping boys understand adoption….with a puppy!

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“Five minutes, Mom. Only five minutes,” Super Tall Guy barked as we pulled into the parking lot. “I want to go home.” We had left ice hockey a few minutes early where he had spent the time playing on my cellphone, so it’s not like it had been a rough hour. But Super Tall sure wasn’t interested in a stop before we got home, especially when I was vague about “meeting someone for a minute.”

When I held up a tiny 4 pound puppy to the car window, Mitsy2eager squeals of delight erupted. I handed in one puppy and then another. National Adoption Day. In honor of my three adopted brothers, we brought home from a shelter two sister Cavadoodles. It probably would have been more peaceful for my life if that mother had had three girls in her litter, but we’ll just continue to work on “taking turns” and “being patient” and “sharing;” great skills that the boys rarely like to practice.

There’s something so sweet about bringing a little puppy into your life. The pooping on the floor is not so sweet, but the snuggling into your lap and bouncing along behind your feet as you move from room to room can’t be beat. It’s also sweet to watch the boys pick up little Mitsy and tuck into a blanket on the couch, slipping deep into the warmth and rhythm of a sleeping animal. They don’t know it yet, but they are forming a bond with this little lovebug that’s going to change their life. They are experiencing peace and joy and unconditional love. They are accepting a bit more responsibility, altering to a new schedule, sharing their “lovey” with neighbors and cousins, and making a loyal friend. They will likely never reflect on or recognize all these “gifts” that a pet brings (until they sit on a couch as a parent and write about adopting a pet), but they will feel it and that’s what’s important.

I’m hoping that adopting a little puppy and opening our heart and our home to a new life will also help the rough and tumble boys understand a bit more about their own adoption. That they might understand that a woman gave birth to them but was not able to continue to take care of them. That another woman accepted them into her arms and her world eagerly even though it meant big changes in her life. That they are loved beyond measure even when they poop in the house or don’t put the toilet seat up. That they started life in a “shelter” situation, but they can live and grow and flourish in this home with their siblings knowing that they will always be loved and welcomed. That a mother is a mother is a mother and a son is a son is a son. The bond we have will not be broken. Love remains forever, for always and no matter what. That’s what adoption means.

Of course, since I so clearly have failed at house-training three rambunctious boys, I have no idea why I think I’ll do any better with a teeny tiny fluffy dog. But, hey, we still have years and years to work on this!