Rain, Rain and Poop!

These are the days that people think about when someone says "we are going to get a dog".

These are the days that people remember what happened to make them re-think there decision of getting a dog

These are the days you want to throw up your hands and say "I surrender!"

...

So what is my "day"?

Well this morning at 5am (as per usual) the cat came and tried to stir Dave and I from our sleep. We would usual ignore him until 6am but now with Blondie - she starts to whine, we assume she is whining about the cat being up and playful and not her but to teach her that she will be taken immediately outside from the crate we get up and do just that. Actually since Dave is up with her at 6 - I have the midnight shift so anything in between the time we fall asleep and the 6am alarm clock is my job.

So I get up and take her outside - it is POURING rain - she cowers under my legs, I walk to encourage her to go, then she whimpers and finally cries really loudly as she attempts to run back to the house. I make her sit, follow my commands and then we go back inside. I am tired - she pees almost instantly on the front runner. (Oh, that's why I don't have carpets) I say NO! and take her right back outside to repeat the before mention outside events.

As I am coming back inside for the second time, Jack Sparrow runs outside and into the dark morning rain. I yell to Dave "Jack Sparrow ran out and I can't see!". I can hear him yell something but it's too late, I am already back out in the pouring rain looking for Jack Sparrow. I call to him as I make my way to the backyard. He must be scared, so I figure he can't go far. I notice him in the neighbours bushes on the side of the house, pick him up and cart him back inside to a waiting Dave and Blondie. I tell Dave to go back to sleep, I got it now. He retreats back upstairs but not before he can tell both Jack Sparrow and Blondie "be good! Don't kill your mother!"

Defeated, I think of what plan B could be to train Blondie to pee in the rain- I search online and think - maybe open the garage? let her pee there so it feels like we are outside. Just then I see her searching to poop. Before I can get over to her, I yell "NO!" and pick her up to bring her outside. From upstairs I can hear Dave say "what happened!?" A nugget drops from her behind onto the floor...it was all slow-motion...I step in it, almost falling, I hold her to protect her should I fall (mother instincts), foot in poop I make my way to the door. By now Dave and I have had a short conversation in loud yelps.

"What happened!?!"

"She pooped!"

"take her outside!"

"I am - I stepped in the poop!"

"are you okay?"

"I stepped in poop!!!!"

* note - the word poop was actually used - I tend to prefer to use that term over "shit" when talking about actual bowel movements. Although in retrospect I think SHIT would have been much more apropos.

Dave rushes to my aide, takes her outside as I clean her poop from my foot, and the trail left from her initial accident. We attempt to bring her outside together to show her it's not scary. We make an excellent team - a sight to see really. Two of us in matching rain coats, and flip flops, standing an inch apart with a trembling puppy in between our arms as we gently repeat "it's okay...it's okay". Despite our best efforts she still whimpers and cries, once she sits and becomes somewhat calm I give her a treat but still nothing.

Back inside she chases Jack Sparrow, Dave returns to bed, I return to minding the "children at play". I take a few seconds to run upstairs to get some paperwork I need to do on the computer downstairs - I'm up, I might as well get something done! I knock over things on my desk, making a clatter I throw my hands up and say "I give up!" I come back downstairs to some poop on the floor, and a confused Jack Sparrow trying to clean it up with imaginary litter and his paw.

Now 6 am, I feed the two monsters, the rain lets up enough that Blondie can go outside and pee, I praise her like her urine was a magical elixir to cure all the evil in the world. She whimpers and tried to run back to the house as the thunder rolls. I laugh to myself and say "you have appeased the Gods Blondie, you may return inside."

Now 6:30am, the cat has made his way back to daddy in a warm bed, with a full belly. Blondie, full and tired sleeps on my lap as I type this.

Yes. this morning was frustrating. Yes, I wanted to cry more than once. Yes, I wish I was sleeping.

BUT

These are the days that happen.

These are the days of bitter in exchange for the sweet.

This was just a morning - the day could get better.

I orginally wrote this as an e-mail to my parents and sister (which they are probably re-reading here) however my momma responded with an amazing e-mail that made me tear up - so I would like to share that here...

***

My darling daughter - things do get better - repeat this mantra because it is true. Although I only had one dog to train our beloved Roccy - and it was difficult - early mornings, chewed shoes, barking, running away. I still look back and realized there is so much reward in the unconditional love they return to you. Training a dog is soooo much shorter than training a baby.

First you have to train yourself to trust that the baby will be ok in its own bed...then you need to train your husband not to panic and yes the baby is breathing yet when he leaves the room you gently put your hand on your precious child's chest just to make sure she is indeed breathing.

Then comes try to train them to sleep more than two or three hours, then when you have succeed to sleep three hours - one morning you sleep for five hours and awake startled that something dreadful has happened and you did not hear you baby! You jump up only to see her sleeping in the small cradle next to you and sigh with pride that she slept that long. Once you have her in a routine -then teething starts and you try to calm your poor baby but nothing helps - you can't take that pain away and with every tear - your heart breaks and you pray that those darn teeth come in so she will be happy again. So many nights spend awake worrying if she make it through the night without the pain waking her...

Then come the nights of stomach pains or cramps, or colic and more sleepless nights....
Then you have some wonderful years where they sleep through the night and you rest well....but it is short lived because if you have a child like mine who has this bright inquisitive mind and imagination there are nights when they will wake you because they had a bad dream....you survive.

Then come the teenage years when they test their limits with their curfew and you spend hours on the couch waiting for them....you survive. Off to University - calm again, yet it is like the quiet storm....you still worry.

......I am only halfway thru and although I have just realized that we were talking about pets - I am talking about you....the moral of the story is that you survive, you make it through at the bumps and this my darling daughter is just the beginning for you...pets are an easy training ground there will be many little bumps but the reward is 100 fold better. I think of you and a smile immediately comes to my face!! WOW I raised an little baby and she grew into this amazing woman!!!

I would have like to continue my journey of raising you but I found myself crying softly, because truly we have had an incredible journey until now and I can't wait for Act Two!!

Love you darling xoxox

***

How can something this cute...

turn into this...