Once again after a stressful and hectic week at work, I come home and relax my Friday night away only to be awoken on Saturday morning at 6.20am. Listening to my new addition cry and whine downstairs I knew there was only one thing for it. The puppy trauma through bedtime routines and trying to keep our little Frankenstein happy in his own company is still an almighty issue. I suppose naively I thought that our issue would be toilet training or yapping and barking, and whilst the latter is an issue, it is rarely present. Unless of course, you leave him alone for an eighth of a second.
Mind you I have never had a puppy. I remember as a child begging and pleading my parents to buy me a puppy. In fact, I am pretty sure that I even settled for a dog as I got a little older but every year sure is to be sure there would be a canine companion at the top of my birthday and Christmas list. I longed for one so bad that eventually, my parents gave in.
We called her Trixie and she was a chocolate Labrador. Looking back I am not entirely sure how old she was when we got her but I know that she was still a boisterous pup. I think I remember my parents telling me that she had come from a rescue home, although I am not certain on. All I know is that she stayed with us a while before we had to give her away. My brother was very small, still a baby himself really and I think that Trixie had taken it on herself to make him part of her pack. As a result whenever he would cry she would come running, although she very rarely left his side and always slept under his pinstriped blue and white baby bouncer. As time went by she grew to growl if anyone went near him and snarled if anyone even dared to pick him up, even if he was blind crying.
One day as my baby brother began to whimper I went as any big sister to make sure he was OK. I must have only been about six or seven at the time but as I went to pick him out of the baby bouncer he was in to comfort him Trixie lost it and went to bite me, narrowly missing my face. She caught me though and in a bit of a fright more than anything I started to cry. There was blood where she had nicked my nose as she has snapped up at me and it was at that moment I think my parents took the executive decision that Trixie needed to be rehomed. This time we had been lucky but if any more blood had been drawn then she may have gotten a taste for it and then she would have no chance at her happily ever after home as she would have to be put down. That was the least of the families worry as what would have happened if she had turned on the baby and snapped at him next time.
And so that was the end of my first encounter with owning my own dog, or at least a little. All throughout my late teens and twenties (so far at least) when I gradually gained more independence and got a serious boyfriend and a house I thought and even chatted with him about getting a pup to complete our little set-up. I mean I should have really seen he was no good for me when he told me he didn't really like doggo's and certainly didn't want one as a pet.
After that relationship fell apart (not for the lack of dog ownership I must say) I moved on and after getting my own little bachelor pad in the centre of Bedford I craved some furry company and a little man in my life that wasn't as much hassle as some of the dates I went on. I thought it would help with me meeting new people and making friends and maybe more. But alas the one-bed top floor penthouse had no balcony and thus I was not allowed one by my landlord. And then I met Mr Warehouse and his beloved pup and the rest is history.
They say you have your first one, the golden child (quite literally in our case) and they are an absolute dream. Sleeps well, doesn't cry, good by themselves, not bothered by anything and generally a happy baby, or in our case a happy pooch. My Step-Dog is not phased by anything and takes the world in her stride, people knocking at the door, maybe the occasional gruff, but fireworks? No problem. Potty training? Don't sweat it! Motorbikes and strange loud noises? Pffft! Children and other dogs? No bother. Left alone? Happy to have her own company.
Therefore you are lulled into a false pretence that your next one will be just as easy. Just like with babies, Mr. Warehouse grabbed the opportunity a few weeks ago to make our family four paws bigger and finally my dream of having a little furry baby came true. I would have said that having Frankenstein is a little like being a parent, so I am told. He is sometimes a nightmare, OK most of the time, but his love and affection is growing and our bond is getting stronger by the day and I am sure that we will have the relationship I have always dreamt of ... Just need to let him know its OK to be alone sometimes!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Mind you I have never had a puppy. I remember as a child begging and pleading my parents to buy me a puppy. In fact, I am pretty sure that I even settled for a dog as I got a little older but every year sure is to be sure there would be a canine companion at the top of my birthday and Christmas list. I longed for one so bad that eventually, my parents gave in.
We called her Trixie and she was a chocolate Labrador. Looking back I am not entirely sure how old she was when we got her but I know that she was still a boisterous pup. I think I remember my parents telling me that she had come from a rescue home, although I am not certain on. All I know is that she stayed with us a while before we had to give her away. My brother was very small, still a baby himself really and I think that Trixie had taken it on herself to make him part of her pack. As a result whenever he would cry she would come running, although she very rarely left his side and always slept under his pinstriped blue and white baby bouncer. As time went by she grew to growl if anyone went near him and snarled if anyone even dared to pick him up, even if he was blind crying.
One day as my baby brother began to whimper I went as any big sister to make sure he was OK. I must have only been about six or seven at the time but as I went to pick him out of the baby bouncer he was in to comfort him Trixie lost it and went to bite me, narrowly missing my face. She caught me though and in a bit of a fright more than anything I started to cry. There was blood where she had nicked my nose as she has snapped up at me and it was at that moment I think my parents took the executive decision that Trixie needed to be rehomed. This time we had been lucky but if any more blood had been drawn then she may have gotten a taste for it and then she would have no chance at her happily ever after home as she would have to be put down. That was the least of the families worry as what would have happened if she had turned on the baby and snapped at him next time.
And so that was the end of my first encounter with owning my own dog, or at least a little. All throughout my late teens and twenties (so far at least) when I gradually gained more independence and got a serious boyfriend and a house I thought and even chatted with him about getting a pup to complete our little set-up. I mean I should have really seen he was no good for me when he told me he didn't really like doggo's and certainly didn't want one as a pet.
After that relationship fell apart (not for the lack of dog ownership I must say) I moved on and after getting my own little bachelor pad in the centre of Bedford I craved some furry company and a little man in my life that wasn't as much hassle as some of the dates I went on. I thought it would help with me meeting new people and making friends and maybe more. But alas the one-bed top floor penthouse had no balcony and thus I was not allowed one by my landlord. And then I met Mr Warehouse and his beloved pup and the rest is history.
They say you have your first one, the golden child (quite literally in our case) and they are an absolute dream. Sleeps well, doesn't cry, good by themselves, not bothered by anything and generally a happy baby, or in our case a happy pooch. My Step-Dog is not phased by anything and takes the world in her stride, people knocking at the door, maybe the occasional gruff, but fireworks? No problem. Potty training? Don't sweat it! Motorbikes and strange loud noises? Pffft! Children and other dogs? No bother. Left alone? Happy to have her own company.
Therefore you are lulled into a false pretence that your next one will be just as easy. Just like with babies, Mr. Warehouse grabbed the opportunity a few weeks ago to make our family four paws bigger and finally my dream of having a little furry baby came true. I would have said that having Frankenstein is a little like being a parent, so I am told. He is sometimes a nightmare, OK most of the time, but his love and affection is growing and our bond is getting stronger by the day and I am sure that we will have the relationship I have always dreamt of ... Just need to let him know its OK to be alone sometimes!
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