Puppy School Graduate

Indy graduated from puppy training yesterday. Hooray!

And I use the term “graduate’'” lightly. When called up to convocate (is that a word?), Indy wouldn’t sit, got too excited to give his paw, and tried to eat his diploma. Yesterday morning, he peed on the floor. And, while vacuuming, I discovered that he had eaten two holes in the living-room carpet. Don’t get me started on Nicholas’ shoelaces.

Oh, and the bell at the kitchen door? The one Indy rings to go out to potty? Ate that too. Or rather, he ate the ribbon that loops over the doorknob. So, no more bells.

Yeah. So graduate is a very loose term. No doubt, Indy’s picture in the yearbook would be under Class Clown.

Let me tell you how thrilled he was with that hat. My uncle says that Indy looks like a mop with a nose. My dad has suggested that he spray him with Pledge.

So, maybe graduating isn’t as important as the fact that we went. We tried. A for Effort and all that. We sat, stayed, lied, left it, took it, dropped it…all those important things that puppies should know. Or that I’ll pretend he knows. Indy’s best trick? Come. Especially when I’m standing at the end of the rawhide aisle, holding out a treat. He runs at me with gleeful puppy abandon, knocking himself on his face. He’s a giant pom-pom with legs, bouncing across the floor.

All I need is the Pledge.

What else has Indy learned? Well, that putting his wet, goopy, thoroughly chewed tennis ball in my lap is a great way to have me throw it across the room. Ditto for bones, and Kongs. He’s also learned that nudging an arm with a coffee-filled mug at the end of it is a great way to get a reaction. As is trying to swallow Rainbow Loom bands, dragging mud through my kitchen or head-butting me in the knees. It’s all about action and reaction right? Stupid Pavlov.

The thing about having a puppy is that it’s a love-hate relationship. I love Indy when he’s snuggly. I love his furry-can’t-see-his-eyes face and the way that his whole body wiggles when he greets me at the door. And there is nothing sweeter than watching Nicholas and Indy have a snuggle. I love, LOVE how good he is with the boys (for the most part anyway, puppy nipping aside).

That might be where the love ends though. Pierre and I decided several years ago that we were done after two kids. Then, we got a puppy. Maybe not our most well thought-out decision. I’m basically raising two four-year-olds right now. And some days it is a very tough call as to who listens better. Raising a puppy is a heap, and I mean giant dog doo HEAP, of work. A giant muddy heap of chewed shoelaces, ruined carpets and goopy tennis balls. Those are the days that I might just hate the dog.

But, isn’t that picture with Nicholas sweet? That’s the love.

xo Naomi