Friday, October 25, 2013

Molson the Dog

It has been nearly three weeks since our home visit with Molson and his foster family.  The Thursday after they were out, his foster mom called to say she had chosen us to be his new family.  That was really cool - the girls were super-excited about it and so were we.  They brought him to us on the following Sunday.  Papers were signed, and a few tears shed by the foster mom, and then they were gone and he was here.

He's a good dog, but I won't say that the first week wasn't tough.  The weather, which had been gray and damp for seven full days already, continued on.  The first morning we had him, I had to work and figure out what to do with him while I was gone.  The crate we'd borrowed from a friend was too small and I ended up puppy-proofing our bedroom and closing him in it, with fingers crossed as I headed to work a half-hour late. He barked and whined, and I wondered what we'd gotten ourselves into.

That week, we bought a larger crate, tried out three different walking leads, got used to daily drags (him dragging us), agonized over getting the invisible fence fixed, took him to an off-leash dog park, and read infinite articles about training (Cesar Milan truly is the ultimate Dog Whisperer).  It was like having a newborn again.  We didn't know him and he didn't know us and there was definitely a breaking-in period.  I wondered on several occasions whether this had been the right choice, and I decided right then and there that people who foster dogs are very special indeed.

The second week has been much better.  The sun came out to stay for a while, the fence got fixed and training has begun.  We found the right lead for Molson and he is doing so well with heeling (thank you Cesar).  He likes his larger crate and will tolerate it for short periods of time while we're gone.  He has left the guinea pigs alone for the most part, having really been interested in them more as playmates than food.  He still tries to sneak the girls stuffed animals when he thinks we're not looking, even though he knows he's not supposed to.  I am back to cleaning the house obsessively so the hair does not overtake everything else.  I am anxiously awaiting the Facebook post from NRGRR that he has been adopted by a nice family that will give him lots of attention and love.

All is well.

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