The Damage Report

"If I have any beliefs about immortality, it is that certain dogs I have known will go to heaven, and very, very few persons." ~ James Thurber

Oh my god.  What was I thinking?  Having Wolf is like having a toddler in the house.  He's a 24-hour a day job-- just monitoring where he is at all times, taking him out for potty breaks and continuing his puppy education.  When I go to the restroom, he stands outside the bathroom door and cries.  If there's one thing I must insist on, it's that I must have privacy in the bathroom--no exceptions.  If there's an electrical outlet somewhere, he'll find it.  He has an unbelievable knack for finding all of the things I try to keep away from him.  That includes my shoes, of course.

So far, we've gone through four leashes:  One for him and three for Sheba.  He loves to jump up and bite her leash, which is very thin because it's the retractable type.  He destroyed one last night.  He's eaten up a couple of his collars. 

I knew I shouldn't have taken him on the walk with Sheba last night, but he was so rowdy and out of control that I was afraid I'd come home to my very on Katrina experience.  It's remarkable the amount of damage puppies can do in 15 minutes.  Around 7;00 p.m., Wolf gets completely out of control.  I can't find anything to keep his interest more than a couple of minutes, including the numerous bones and chew treats he now owns.  He tries to bite everyone, not in a malicious way, but just a puppy chewing way.  He plays kamikaze pilot with Hubby.  Wolf blazes across the room and flings himself on Hubby.  Needless to say, Hubby is not pleased.

Today we're going to start clicker training and eye contact training.  We've pretty much gotten "sit" down and we're making rapid strides in crate training.  He's stopped crying once he gets in there, but it takes my about 20 to 30 minutes to get him in the crate.  This is an error on my part.  I'm not sure how to correct it, but I'm going to do some looking around on the web today.  I may just have to start putting him in his crate an hour before bedtime or something. 

He's a really intelligent and sweet boy...he just needs patience.  Luckily for him, I have patience in abundance and the critical understanding that his errors are my responsibility.  If he makes a mistake, it's because I've failed to help him fully understand what I want from him.  I use only positive training, which should help further the bond between us.  It's really more a question of whether I'll keel over from exhaustion before we get the really important things down--"stay," "lie down," "come," not jumping on people, not biting people.  So much to do, so little time.

Hubby had a second job interview on Friday.  They're supposed to make the decision today.  I've been asking all of my friends who pray to do so.  I can't tell you what a positive difference it would make in my life.  He earns money from his magazine articles, etc., but what we really need is a reliable and consistent source of income.  It's very anxiety-provoking to know that I'm the only thing that stands between a house and living under a bridge.

Pressure?  Hey, I'm used to it. 

America held hostage day 1704  (will it never end?)

Bushism of the day:  I don't even have the heart to post one.  I reallly, really, really hate this guy.