On Saturday my husband, Ben, and I drove into Norfolk to pick up our new miniature long-haired Dachshund puppy, Eric (my husband is a `Lovejoy' fan), born on June 18th. We had decided that I would drive home and Ben would sit in the back seat with Eric on his lap. Perhaps it was Ben's calm voice reassuring him about my erratic corner taking, combined with the anxiety of leaving his mum and dad and little cousin for the first time, but Eric has fallen for Ben big time. I only get a look-in if Ben is out of the house and Eric has already popped into Ben's study to leave a little wee as a welcome home present, marking their joint territory.
The Highlights
* The first time he crapped outside, after I'd spotted some heavy sniffing action.
* He wouldn't drink and became listless on the first day, but upon advice from the breeder I went to buy him some goat's milk to mix with his water and he finished the whole bowl in a lapping frenzy.
* I gave him an apple from our tree to play with and he pounced on it, rolled it around a few times, then took the stem between his teeth and dragged it back to his den under the chair.
* The first time we took him onto the (weed-infested) lawn and he started gambolling like a lamb, biting the heads off the dandelions.
* This morning I was sweeping leaves, or trying to. He launched himself onto the broom and hitched a ride with the leaves, then fought me for the bristles. We ended up having a tug of war for ten joyful minutes.
* Just carrying Eric in from the car (he can't go outside till tomorrow after his second vaccination), I met someone from the village (only the second person who's ever spoken to me on the street here) who immediately fussed over him and told me he breeds Afghan hounds. Dogs are like babies, it seems, everyone feels entitled to stop, coo and ask very personal questions (like how much he cost).
The Lowlights
* When you've taken him outside (in the dark or the rain) and he's played about, but not had a wee and then the minute you're back inside, he looks at you and you watch urine trickle away from his back legs.
* Following the breeder's advice we put him in a crate at night with water, toys, his mum's blanket, a comfier bed than ours and my husband's sweaty T shirt draped over the top. We put the radio on and a dim lamp. We sat and conversed quietly. He settled down. We tiptoed out and much like a baby- again- he immediately started howling. We were told we had to ignore him or we'd make a rod for our own backs. Very hard, but we obeyed. He fell asleep after half an hour last night, but woke at 1.30 and 3.30 and 5.30 and made his presence known through two closed doors. When we came downstairs at 7, bleary-eyed, he'd somehow managed to pull my husband's T shirt through the bars of the crate and staged a (very) dirty protest.
Overall
Although I'm exhausted - and still have to work- and a bit jealous at the adoration in his eyes when he looks at Ben (reciprocated), it's already impossible to imagine life without him. Plus he's helped me rediscover a sense of play and that has to be the most important thing of all.
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