Sunday, January 24, 2010

Training Trixie

Most foster dogs come with at least one behavioral problem. The prevalent challenge among the dogs I've taken care of is that they haven't been properly housebroken. Trixie is one of them. The problem is that Trixie hasn't done anything since she arrived at my house yesterday morning.

I have been watching her like a hawk. When she's in a carpeted room, I'm either playing with her or she's cuddled on the couch next to me. I took her outside every half hour or so but all she did was eat rabbit shit (I rent a space under the garage to an ever growing population of bunnies). Either she's a pro at sneak and pee or else she has one of the largest bladders a dog has ever had. Last night she slept next to my bed in the kennel. Every time she whined I got up and took her outside. Even though I have a fenced in yard, I put her on a leash in a useless attempt to keep the bunny doodoo out of her mouth. That was the only thing we accomplished -- that and a pretty much sleepless night for me.

This morning I took her for a long walk. It resulted in some much needed exercise for me (2,979 steps according to my pedometer) and a very wet dog. She's now regulated to the kitchen where I've spread today's sports page all over the floor. Later, when PetSmart opens I'll buy some puppy biddle pads and hope that works. Keep your fingers crossed

Saturday, January 23, 2010

Remembering Dixie

In a couple of hours I will be meeting Trixie. She's a six-month old cockapoo and she'll be the first dog I've had in my house since my own dog, Dixie, died two weeks ago. I'm thinking it might be a bit too soon to have another dog in the house, but I couldn't say no. It's what I do.

I've been fostering dogs for about four years now and have fallen in love with everyone of them. This will be my first puppy. All of the other dogs I've fostered have been older. Dixie was a senior, going blind and partially deaf and didn't need a playful pal jumping all over her. She must have had some clout in the dog world as each dog I fostered was always respectful of her. Some downright ignored her. Some might try to steal her bed, but always moved out of the way when she came back to claim her space.

So today I'm puppy-proofing the house again and remembering Dixie.