Friday, May 20, 2016

We, err.. I got a dog. Apparently I don't like sleep.

After 5 years of asking for a dog for Christmas, my loving husband gives in.  "I'll take care of it, 100% responsibility, you won't have to do a single thing." I said.  Little did I know how much work a puppy is!  I've had dogs before, but nothing could have prepared me for the terror of an 8week old canine disguised as an adorable little fur ball.

Before I start, don't even harp on me about the "adopt, don't shop"... I have had nothing but rescues in the past and loved them dearly.  I went with a reputable breeder this time because I have a young child and I didn't want to risk getting an older dog with a bad past.  Selfish maybe, but that's not what this is about....

This incredible little creature was so sweet and timid the first 48 hours.  And then...

The teeth! Those razor-sharp tiny slivers of enamel do nothing but bite/gnaw and scratch EVERYTHING.  Not just my hands, but articles of clothing suddenly have holes in them, there are scratch marks on every stool/table legs, and more.  I couldn't pet him calmly for the first 2 weeks because he would go for the kill every time.   I tried everything from bones, chew toys, plenty of exercise and bitter apple spray that claims to be a bite deterrent.   He would sit by the fireplace and file his teeth on the brick!  The sound is cringeworthy.   Poor thing had major teething issues.  I have to say it took a good 4 weeks to get him to stop the incessant biting.  At least with me, the girls still have problems with him just wanting to nip at them all the time.  

I slept on the couch the first week or so while crate-training him but he's still a morning dog.  And I mean 5am barking until I get him outside kind of morning dog.  So after years of sleeping in and loving my beauty rest, I am now completely surrounded by early risers.  From my husband who is up at 6am to my daughter who follows him downstairs, my dog and I are the only ones walking the streets of my suburban SoCal neighborhood at sunrise.  I keep telling myself he's just on Eastern time, and so I make all my calls to friends and family on the East coast and enjoy the rest of the calm before the storm of daily life begins.

Did I mention we got the dog a mere 3 months after my 4yr old finally started sleeping through the night?  Yes, that's right.  I've had over 4 years of interrupted sleep... only to extend it further.  Willingly, this was my idea!  WTF?   I guess I'll keep saying "I'll sleep when I'm dead".

In the meantime, I'll keep drinking my coffee and my wine to get me through.  In my defense, here's an article on interrupted sleep. Interrupted sleep led to 31% reduction in positive mood

No comments:

Post a Comment