Luka is 8 months old now and I really wish I had started this blog back when he was 8 or 9 weeks old. As much as you don't want to forget a single moment, it's incredible how quickly you lose the day to day details of raising a puppy, especially as the puppy starts to grow and adapt to your life. Surprisingly, it's the not so pleasant memories that fade first. You forget how awful it was getting up eight times that first night when your puppy cried in his crate; you can't recall how many accidents you cleaned up or the number of times he nibbled on your toes. In fact, I have a theory that having a puppy is like having a baby: you don't have a second baby until you forget how awful it was the first time, and you don't get a second puppy until you've forgotten that your dog wasn't always that mature, calm, well trained dog he is now.
I thought if I read enough dog training books and dog breed books that I would be prepared for anything. Dog training books make raising a puppy seem so simple. Each book has a set of steps to follow and if you follow those exactly you should have zero problems. I remember reading a book that explained that if you tied a leash to your belt loop so your puppy could never be too far away from you and took it out right after playing, waking up, drinking, 22 minutes after eating, 6.9 seconds after sneezing, etc, your puppy should never have an accident. Tie my puppy to me? No thanks. What if my puppy doesn't pee on your schedule? Not a single book talked about how to learn about your own puppy, to trust yourself about your puppy, and to expect mistakes from both of you.
What I wish a book had bothered to tell me was that I could read every book in the world, but Luka hadn't. He didn't know he was supposed to follow those "puppy rules." I wish someone had told me that it was going to be MONTHS before he slept through the night, no matter how diligently I picked up his food and water so many hours before bed. In short, no one tells you that you're going to have good days and bad days, instead everyone tells you that if things aren't perfect you must be doing something wrong.
Recently I posted a picture on Instagram of a Christmas puzzle I was doing and added #tiredofpullingpiecesoutoflukasmouth. A friend of mine commented that she liked the tag because it makes Luka seem like a real dog. Of course he is! But no one goes around advertising the worst about their dogs. I certainly wasn't eager to share when Luka had an accident or chewed off a sprinkler head. The truth is that you cannot compare your behind the scenes to everyone else's highlight reel, and that's what these dog books are.
Life with your dog is different than anyone else's experience. Each dog learns and develops differently, similar to children, and each dog needs a different approach. Do not allow someone to make you feel like a failure because your dog didn't learn to fetch as quickly as theirs; do you get frustrated because your puppy had an accident and the dog training book says he shouldn't have. Enjoy your puppy, the good and the bad, expect set backs, and remember that it will be worth it.
-Allie and Luka
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Saturday, November 30, 2013
Our Meet Cute
Yes, I just referenced The Holiday with Cameron Diaz. If you haven't seen the movie, a 'meet cute' is the first scene in which the two main characters meet. I think it's supposed to be two characters who eventually fall in love, but our meet cute was the start of a life long adventure.
I am not a big believer in fate. I believe things work out in the end because everything works out, but not necessarily because things are "destined to be." I do, however, truly and honestly believe that Luka and I were meant to choose each other.
With my graduation for nursing school approaching, it was time to turn my sights on a new dream. I decided to pursue starting my own therapy dog program in Las Vegas because it seemed like the perfect way to combine my two loves: nursing and dogs. Having wanted my own dog since the age of five, I began researching Golden Retriever breeders in my area. I imagined a perfect, English Golden, gentle and smart, to tote with me to different hospitals while brightening up the days of the patients who needed him the most. In the summer of 2012 I finally settled on a breeder and, best friend in tow, went to meet her and her current litter of puppies. I think I actually turned to goo the first moment I laid eyes on those squirming puppies; I was in heaven. I put my deposit down for a puppy due the summer of 2013 and spent the rest of the summer "puppy nesting." Throughout the following school year I researched, read, and prepared myself for my puppy. I agonized over names, and even convinced my mom to get me a 900 series crate for Christmas in lieu of a present for myself. On long nights of studying I would motivate myself by thinking of the puppy waiting on the other side of graduation.
May came, I received my diploma, packed up my Chicago apartment, and flew home to Vegas. I emailed the breeder often, requesting information and eagerly waiting to hear that one of her females was pregnant. Finally, the bad news came. She had bred one female with no success, and was unsure when the other would come into heat due to a move and other stressful events. I had a narrow window between graduation, taking my NCLEX, and getting a job in which to get a puppy if I was going to be able to spend the time with it I wanted to. Devastated, I requested my deposit back, and realized that deep down maybe I had known all along that I was destined for a pound puppy.
I scoured animal shelter websites searching for the puppy I had pictured in my mind. I was out to dinner with my mom when she finally convinced me to go to the shelter in person and look at the dogs they had to offer. Despite having seen nothing on their site, I agreed and we drove to the shelter. I walked through a couple of the bungalows before asking a volunteer where the puppies were. The bungalow she directed us did have puppies, but I was dismayed to find dozens of Chihuahua puppies. I turned a corner however, and was met with a kennel of German Shepherd mixes. I think I could have settled for one of those puppies and have been perfectly content. At that point I wanted a puppy so bad I probably would have been ecstatic with any puppy. However, I took a couple more steps and saw the fuzziest, cutest little ball of adorable I had ever laid eyes on. I knew in that moment that I had to hold him. My mom urged me to go find a volunteer to get him out but I refused to move from in front of his door. I was terrified that someone else would find him and claim him while I was gone. When a volunteer finally wandered by, opened the cage and handed him to me, it took four seconds for me to know I was taking him home.
He was perfect. Everything from his wet little nose to his new puppy smell made me fall more in love. I think I pretended to think about it further so I could hold on to him longer. He was wriggly and lick-y and everything I hadn't known I wanted. His cage listed him as a German Shepherd mix (no relation to the GSD mixes in the kennel next to his), a breed I had considered before deciding on a Golden Retriever. I wasn't allowed to take him home that night, he needed to be neutered, but I could pick him up the following afternoon. That night was filled with puppy preparation, setting up his crate, washing his bowls, buying the dog food he was on, taking tags off of all those toys, collars, and leashes I had bought when I was puppy nesting, and A LOT of dancing around.
Saturday, June 1st was puppy day. Picking him up from the shelter, cone head and all, was one of the brightest moments in my life. As we walked out to the parking lot I told him how long I had waited for him, and I promised to give him the best life I possibly could.
The rest is history (with a lot of ups and downs and accidents in the house and whining at night and teething.)
Our adventure has just begun.
-Allie and Luka
I am not a big believer in fate. I believe things work out in the end because everything works out, but not necessarily because things are "destined to be." I do, however, truly and honestly believe that Luka and I were meant to choose each other.
With my graduation for nursing school approaching, it was time to turn my sights on a new dream. I decided to pursue starting my own therapy dog program in Las Vegas because it seemed like the perfect way to combine my two loves: nursing and dogs. Having wanted my own dog since the age of five, I began researching Golden Retriever breeders in my area. I imagined a perfect, English Golden, gentle and smart, to tote with me to different hospitals while brightening up the days of the patients who needed him the most. In the summer of 2012 I finally settled on a breeder and, best friend in tow, went to meet her and her current litter of puppies. I think I actually turned to goo the first moment I laid eyes on those squirming puppies; I was in heaven. I put my deposit down for a puppy due the summer of 2013 and spent the rest of the summer "puppy nesting." Throughout the following school year I researched, read, and prepared myself for my puppy. I agonized over names, and even convinced my mom to get me a 900 series crate for Christmas in lieu of a present for myself. On long nights of studying I would motivate myself by thinking of the puppy waiting on the other side of graduation.
May came, I received my diploma, packed up my Chicago apartment, and flew home to Vegas. I emailed the breeder often, requesting information and eagerly waiting to hear that one of her females was pregnant. Finally, the bad news came. She had bred one female with no success, and was unsure when the other would come into heat due to a move and other stressful events. I had a narrow window between graduation, taking my NCLEX, and getting a job in which to get a puppy if I was going to be able to spend the time with it I wanted to. Devastated, I requested my deposit back, and realized that deep down maybe I had known all along that I was destined for a pound puppy.
I scoured animal shelter websites searching for the puppy I had pictured in my mind. I was out to dinner with my mom when she finally convinced me to go to the shelter in person and look at the dogs they had to offer. Despite having seen nothing on their site, I agreed and we drove to the shelter. I walked through a couple of the bungalows before asking a volunteer where the puppies were. The bungalow she directed us did have puppies, but I was dismayed to find dozens of Chihuahua puppies. I turned a corner however, and was met with a kennel of German Shepherd mixes. I think I could have settled for one of those puppies and have been perfectly content. At that point I wanted a puppy so bad I probably would have been ecstatic with any puppy. However, I took a couple more steps and saw the fuzziest, cutest little ball of adorable I had ever laid eyes on. I knew in that moment that I had to hold him. My mom urged me to go find a volunteer to get him out but I refused to move from in front of his door. I was terrified that someone else would find him and claim him while I was gone. When a volunteer finally wandered by, opened the cage and handed him to me, it took four seconds for me to know I was taking him home.
He was perfect. Everything from his wet little nose to his new puppy smell made me fall more in love. I think I pretended to think about it further so I could hold on to him longer. He was wriggly and lick-y and everything I hadn't known I wanted. His cage listed him as a German Shepherd mix (no relation to the GSD mixes in the kennel next to his), a breed I had considered before deciding on a Golden Retriever. I wasn't allowed to take him home that night, he needed to be neutered, but I could pick him up the following afternoon. That night was filled with puppy preparation, setting up his crate, washing his bowls, buying the dog food he was on, taking tags off of all those toys, collars, and leashes I had bought when I was puppy nesting, and A LOT of dancing around.
Saturday, June 1st was puppy day. Picking him up from the shelter, cone head and all, was one of the brightest moments in my life. As we walked out to the parking lot I told him how long I had waited for him, and I promised to give him the best life I possibly could.
Our first picture together
Little cone head
Getting in the car to head home
Our adventure has just begun.
-Allie and Luka
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