Everything is new for the nine-week-old west highland terrier puppy that recently moved into my laundry room: sights, sounds and bodily functions
But it’s also new for us.
The Bosch-Wallace household has its first dog after a year of indecision. She — our sweet girl, Macy — is healthy and happy and was quick to steal our hearts.
Despite playing fetch with the idea of adding a dog to our family, reasons to do so prevailed. Man’s best friend would reduce screen time, run alongside my trail squad, provide hubby companionship working from home, improve mental health and curb this burgeoning curmudgeon.
A little furball would also temporarily turn down the noisy tick, tick, ticking of my biological clock as we postpone growing our human family to the disappointment of our parents (sorry, mom).
Needless to say, it has been quite the few days for these three cubs. Macy — or should I say Macy’s bladder — currently dictates the schedule for all three of us. If Spiderman has a spidey sense, this pooch has a potty sense and that tinkling tingling rules these humans’ lives.
The bladder is boss.
Take Monday, for example.
This column and other stories were written from home to ensure a smooth and successful work week, following an eventful and dedicated first weekend with the new pup.
Thankfully, the boss who pays the bills is more flexible than the bladder boss because Jeremy (hubby) also had the unfortunate timing of a work trip this week.
Mom and pup are getting well-acquainted. While typing these very words on my laundry room floor, Macy waddled over, jumped into my lap, hijacked my keyboard and pawed some prose of her own: klmijnihb. That’s computer-dog for: “Play with me, human.”
She also managed to call on Siri and bite the corner of my shiny silver MacBook before perching her paws up on my leg and making it incredibly awkward to continue writing due to the obscene amount of space the five-pound pup somehow takes up.
But it’s hard to be angry because it’s all just so darn cute — like little girls in pigtails with ice cream on their face cute. And at least she didn’t stumble on the “delete” key.
This pup has stolen our hearts.
She has also elicited from me an unknown baby voice. Imagine in a high-pitched tone, repeated over and over: “Good girl, Macy. Good girl. Good girl.”
Her very presence, no matter how manic her mood, is calming.
Her affection and playfulness are endearing and her curiosity is endlessly entertaining.
Macy is constantly learning and it is fun to see the world through her eyes and guide her through new environments and experiences. This week, she has already learned how to wear a collar, run up stairs (but not down), dig a hole in the backyard (grrr), walk through a door, chase a ball (but not return it), go in her kennel, pee on a towel (oops), eat kibbles out of a Kong toy and “go potty” outside.
The Globe and Mail remains folded on my kitchen table, temporarily swapped for Cesar Millan books and Simpawtico YouTube training videos.
Jer constantly reminds to establish dominance — become the alpha and lead the pack — but it’s hard to say no to that face. Instead, I lean on psychology 101. Positive reinforcement is key, which means there’s a party (and treats in every pocket) when she pees.
While admittedly in the honeymoon phase with Macy, the experience for these two first-time dog parents has been positive so far. A friend warned the responsibility is similar to that of having a baby. My sleep schedule agrees.
While that was no surprise, we were shocked by the price of dog supplies. I simply refuse to buy dog shampoo that costs far more than product used in my own hair. Gouging pet owners stinks more than the unexpected puddles discovered when I leave Macy alone in the laundry room. Bad dog store.
Every day is a new adventure when owning a dog. Now, to check back with the boss.