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Whiners, Rabble Rousing & Crate Training

Bear took the children home early today, after the girl child got her knickers in a twist over not being able to concentrate on her schoolwork. They were supposed to be taken home around 1.30pm and Bear was going straight to work afterwards, so I had to get dinner ready for him and was apparently making too much noise in the kitchen for her liking. Tough shit really… she has a bedroom, she could have gone up there, but no, she chooses to whine about it and turn on the tears… so Bear took them home.

No great loss, it meant 3 extra hours of peace and quiet for me and the puppy. Who’s getting too damn clever for his own good. He’s figured out that if he digs at the broken step on the patio, he can loosen the small stones and eat them, and he has no problem voicing his opinion when I tell him no, barking at me in an argumentative tone. It amuses the hell out of the elderly lady next door, especially when his barking starts a whole row of barking from every other neighbourhood dog. Bloody little rabble rouser.

This afternoon we found the perfect vet, a man who owns, trains and shows off border collies, and one of five veterinary doctors and consultants in the same practice who has border collies. Talk of hitting the jackpot. DRAX the Destroyer has an appointment with him next Tuesday for his 9 week vaccination, and then we can take him for walks and tire the little beastie out so he sleeps a bit longer at night… hopefully.! He still has some objections with his training pads, but I’m happy to change them as often as necessary to appease him until they’re gone and we can go back to the decent ones that don’t stay wet, then he’ll stop peeing and pooping on the floor.

Crate training is not going too badly. He still whines and whimpers a little when he realises the door is closed, but mostly he lies in his bed and turns his back on me, probably trying to make me feel guilty for confining him when he only wants to play and love me. It’s not working. I’d rather he sat there and cried and sulked than fell down the stairs and ended up permanently maimed. Those damn stairs still attempt to kill me when I least expect it. I wish I lived in a bungalow. He’s going to have to go in it after Bear goes to work, as I have to clean up upstairs now the children have gone.

Yesterday we started changing his food from the Starter food he was weaned on, to the Puppy food which is the next step. Even though he’s not yet nine weeks old, he’s a real chunkster and developing quickly, he’s already grown a little since Wednesday and put on a pound and a little bit in weight. He gets half and half for two meals and Puppy food for two meals each day. We also gave him a bath. He wasn’t especially impressed, but he bravely let himself be washed and rinsed, and wrapped up in his microfibre towel and gently rubbed almost dry in Bear’s arms, and he loved having the heater on. Then he went out into the garden and rolled on the patio.


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