Testing, One, Two...

We get Pat back tonight! It will be good to be running on all cylinders again.

Josie is growing by leaps and bounds, literally. She's gaining weight -- five pounds since we got her -- and in size and ability to jump and run. All weekend, and today most of all, she is testing us more and more. More barking, more nipping/biting. Just now at lunchtime I had to make some more dramatic assertions of my being in charge, assertions that she continued to test with barks and even little growls. I made sure to come out on top, including having her on her back, exposing her chest to me -- I believe it worked, but I'm not positive. At any rate, she's pretty tired at the moment. I think she's enjoying the new crate pad that Michael and I got for her yesterday -- she chewed up the zipper on the previous (undersized) one pretty quick. At any rate, she sure looks peaceful now.

Spring Social

Life's odd with Pat away. Though kids and I certainly notice it strongly, I don't know if Josie has a clue yet: she kinda takes things as they come. She is, after all, a puppy. She's also a puppy who's been taught from the very beginning to roll with the punches. The monks handle the pups, get them used to collars, cars, peoples' hands all over them, and to people coming and people going -- so the rest of the training and socialization is built on that strong foundation.

That all came in handy, not only for Pat's absence but for Josie's first real trip to the vet yesterday. She was poked, prodded, examined, injected. She had the test that us guys in our forties know too well -- the one involving a surgical glove and plenty of KY Jelly. And she was brilliantly stoic. The waiting room was another story -- twenty minutes in the present of cats in crates, a towering black great dane, and lots of new smells and sounds -- she was scared, and showed it. Anyway, she's all dosed up now on vaccines, flea liquid, a pill against worms, and some liquid in her nose that does I forget what.

And we try to keep the socialization thing going on, bringing people over to meet her and get licked. Today, e.g., I've got three students coming over to rehearse a bluegrass tune that we'll be performing at a talent show tomorrow night. Don't know if the monks ever did that!

Lizzie and I sat on the lawn yesterday afternoon, after Josie had forgotten all about the vet's waiting room, and trimmed her nails. A surprisingly pleasant experience. And today I had one of the most gratifying one-on-one sessions with her yet, on the kitchen floor, tossing a knotted rope and getting her to fetch it and gnaw with such enthusiasm that she was yelping in glee.

It's all about... people

Peter and Elizabeth took Josie for a "well-puppy" visit to the vet on Saturday, just to get them acquainted. New Skete recommends doing that, but after week of people saying, "You can't be serious," it was nice to hear the vet confirm that, since the visit happened so early, Josie would imprint it as a positive experience. Good thing, too: tomorrow she'll return for her shots.

The vet also recommended that Josie meet at least ten new people a week for a while: she'll soon become territorial and needs to see the boundaries of that territory as fairly porous. She's met some of the children's friends, some teachers, a bishop, a number of Peter's students, our language club members, and a few neighbors. They've mostly been coming to us: she isn't allowed on land used by other dogs until she's 16 weeks old (she's not fully vaccinated).

One of the first thing people want to know, besides how old she is, is her name. Some ask with some anticipation, as if hoping to hear a clever one. Their faces fall and their voices turn dismissive ("Oh.") when they hear "Josie." Too prosaic? Others say, "Hi, Josie, what a beautiful puppy you are!"

I'm off to England for a week. I doubt Josie'll forget me in that time, but I wonder how much she'll have changed by the time I get back. If she's too territorial by that time, will I make it past her boundaries? Brother Christopher told us of a surgeon who was home so rarely that his shepherd didn't realize that he was part of the family. By the time the puppy was a year old, he would no longer allow him in the house. Perhaps I should leave her one of my old t-shirts as a memento.

To the next phase

As some things stay the same, others are changing very fast. She's still a dear, still cocks her head wonderfully, still brings her crazy ears together. She still spends time in the crate, in the kitchen, outdoors. All puppy waste material is on our lawn, not on our floor. But she's moved to a larger crate where she can sit, stand, and even walk around a bit. She spent her first night outside Elizabeth's room last night, without a hitch. On the whole, her adaptation to us and to our house is amazingly fast, and one of the results is she's less eager to please. Used to be that just clapping your hands would send her bounding to you, tongue and tail flailing. Now she sits there and sort of wonders why you're making all that noise with that stupid eager expression on your face. We're also only just getting hints of what life is going to be like when she spends less time in the crate. I left her in the (gated) kitchen this morning to check the laundry, and came back to see that she'd found our phone receiver as a perfectly suitable chew toy. I thought I'd placed it well out of reach, but those out-sized paws are getting more and more out-there. Now, exhausted from it all, she's crashed out in her crate.

Beta-testing the Alpha

I haven't been so obsessed with pee and poop since the kids were in diapers. But rather rehearse Josie's digestive events and where they happened, here is a telling scene along the journey to establishing myself as the "alpha" in Josie's pack: I was sitting on the kitchen floor enjoying Josie, when she nipped me playfully on the arm. As I've been instructed to do, I took her snout in my hand and gave it a squeeze/shake, saying "No," until she squealed slightly. And we looked at each other. She gave the same arm a slight, gentle lick, and looked at me. I praised her. She gave it a couple more licks, and looked at me. More praise. She gave it the tiniest little hint of a nip, and looked at me. I said "no." ...whereupon she spontaneously lay down on her back, paws up, in submission to the alpha. Man, this pup must be reading the same books I am.

Doing other little enjoyable exercises once in a while, like holding her as she's facing away from me in her seated position, with one hand on her chest and the other under her chin. The hold is firm, but also embracing, with a slight massage of the chest. The message? "I am in charge, but since I love you that's not such a bad thing, is it?"