Who knew that a three-pound ball of fluff could wreak such havoc in a household in less than 24 hours? Yesterday an adorable cream and apricot Yorkie-Maltese mix found his way into our lives. It was a friend of a friend situation, and that friend of a friend had just gotten a puppy a week ago and found she was hugely allergic. So, with the way that friend of a friend networking works, I found a forwarded email in my inbox at 6:00 am yesterday. It was from my cousin announcing the availability of an adorable puppy to a good home. Uh oh. Yep, I was on it in no time flat. We used to have two Yorkies. And we miss them desperately. But our life had settled into a comfortable, calm routine, as far as the world of owning animals goes. We have a cat, who is, admittedly, high maintenance, but she does not have to go out in the middle of the night and she does not chew on my shoes. Yes. she does sometimes sleep in the bathroom sink.
It was a good life. But a little too quiet, and missing one important element.
Problem solved. Now there is the aforementioned three-pound fur ball to contend with 24/7.
And no sleeping for anyone, not even in the bathroom sink, at this point anyway. It was not for lack of trying. We played and played and played with him, he just had to be tired. We took him out countless times. We made sure he was well fed, well snuggled, and surrounded with familiar toys from his former home. But yes, we had to insist that he sleep in his crate during the night. It was for his own good. He is so little that if he wandered the house he could easily fall through the banister rungs in our loft. And of course, he is not housebroken yet. So who knows what we would have, could have stepped in on our way to a middle of the night bathroom run. And then there is the dynamic between the old and the new. He cannot resist pouncing on our cat every chance he gets. So far she has been incredibly tolerant but we need to keep a careful eye on things so for all those reasons, it was crate time for nighttime.
Lights out. Kisses and hugs. Nighty nite. A big soft fluffy blanket, oodles of toys, and still room for the food and water bowl in this Taj Mahal of a crate. It all looked good. Within seconds the whining started. Followed by crying, whining and more howling. I raced to make sure all was well. He was fine, just very indignant. I did what I was not supposed to do, brought him back to bed with us.
Momentary lapse. I knew I had to put him back. Jaz had to get used to the crate, every article I looked up on the Internet told me so. And we have had many dogs before, so I truly did know. Okay, little cutie pie, back in the crate. Silence for a quarter of a second. And then, howl, cry, whine, repeat. It was breaking my heart but I knew I had to persevere. I woke my husband. “How can you sleep? What should I do”? He was very sweet and calmly told me we had to keep little Jaz in the crate. Then he promptly fell right back asleep. How does he do that? 3:00 am. Okay, I am going to take him out, I am sure his tiny little bladder needs relief. Very legitimate reason to go to him. He did his business, yay! “Good boy, Mommy is so proud of you! Now it’s time to go back to bed.” Howl, cry, whine, repeat. My son Z woke up and begged me to take Jaz out of the crate. I wanted to, I really did. But we had to hang tough here. Z tried sleeping on the couch to keep Jaz company, but no luck. Needless to say, it was a very long night.
And then it was morning. Time to write my blog. I started it three and a half hours ago. In between there has been accidents and feeding and cleaning up more accidents and rescuing my backpack buckle from inquiring and surprisingly strong little jaws. Not much writing getting done. But did I mention there has also been cuddles and puppy kisses and tummy rubs and more cuddles and big brown eyes looking adoringly into my eyes and more cuddles and more puppy kisses?
And he even wandered into his crate on his own this morning so apparently my 4:00 am worry that he was being traumatized was for naught. Whew! Yes, blog interrupted, no sleep, somewhat stressed cat, husband and son but you know what? This new normal is going to be just fine. In fact, better than fine. This little guy has something that lasts forever, a complete and total hold on our hearts. All this in a three pound package. Who could ask for more? And my husband, he is hooked! And sleeping just fine thank you!