The dog books were great, are great. We have used three puppy books. Now everytime, I always say Sammy is perfect he must have read the book, but really they have been helpful. However, the books have definately not prepared us for a real puppy!
Sammy, the perfect pup, has his ...Marley moments. His ...did you just do what I think you did? moments. His ....puppy moments. Let me give you a great example. At our last place, we were third floor, and the frequent potty breaks was already a pain, especially when he was too short to actually go up and down the stairs himself! One night after I got off work and Sammy went for his last walk around the complex, say 11 pm, we were walking our normal route. This complex was filled with rabbits, among other wildlife. The rabbits were mean to Sammy and liked to tease him, and Sammy ended up at a point of practically hunting rabbits. This night Sammy was more concerned with potty than rabbits. So there we were, right next to the bush and he was going. A rabbit darted out behind him. Sammy immediately switched focus, turned around and stepped right into his little pile! This is the situation the books don't prepare you for. I had to pick up the smelly, "dirty," unhappy puppy up the 36 stairs to a bath. Seriously, who, when they are puppy shopping, finding that cute little puffball with the big ears, little legs and puppy eyes thinks: in just a few short days I will be in the bathtub with you physicially pulling crap out of your butt hair and from between your toes in the middle of the night after working an 8 hour shift. Then the poor little guy had to shiver and shake from being all wet and cold! No one thinks of those precious moments, and certainly no one writes about them in their puppy books.
Last night was another, why didn't I think this would happen moment. Erik and I both worked last night. He got off at 10, and me at 1030. Erik got home first and got a head start on the Samster. When I got home he had already been fed dinner and walked. When I got home, Sammy was staring out the window and so was Erik. Good sign. Erik opened the door and Sammy ran out to say hi, I drop everything to give him lots of hugs and kisses (the books say NOT to do this, but I can't help it!). Then we make our way inside. Erik said he got a little mischevious while we were gone. Uh oh. What did he do? Sammy chewed on the brand new curtain panel maintenance had just installed earlier that day, pulled out his potty bags, ate a box, and pottied inside. Well, well, well. We head in to go to bed choosing to watch some I Dream of Jeanne before sleep. Sammy can't get comfortable. Here come the up chuck noises! We jump up trying to figure out where and how to move him before the spillage! The white carpeting? The bathroom with the white and light blue rug? We won't make it anywhere. Out it came on MY cream white quilted pillow sham! And by it, I mean a full stick rawhide bone completely undigested in a matrix of brown mashed up puppy food! It was all over his chin and paws. To the bathtub we go. I take Sammy to his 1230am bath as Erik cleans up the vomit. Back to bed, and Sammy camps out on my other pillow. Now it is time to sleep, so Erik goes to grump mode, Sammy goes to passed out with a gurgling tummy mode, and I'm left with inches of room, no blanket and no pillow. I can do it, I'm little and can sleep through anything.
Half an hour later as Sammy takes more room, enough is enough, I pick him up and maneuver him. PERFECT! I got my pillow back and some blanket! Ha, I am the boss! Time to snuggle up. Let me paint this picture for you: wet pillow, wet sheet, Sammy took the blanket before I could lie down. I lost the war.