LIVING LIFE

Most people equate dogs with comfort and companionship. When my late husband died years ago, I remember many friends suggesting that I get a dog. At the time, I was barely able to take care of myself, let alone a furry little friend. Fast forward to the pandemic, when the sale of puppies and the number of dog adoptions skyrocketed. These amazing creatures served many purposes during those trying days/years. They became companions for lonely people quarantined in their homes, and brought energy and amusement to families. In spite of my post retirement battle cry, “No additional responsibilities”, my husband and I decided to join the ranks of pet owners.

Being as my last dog was a rescue who suffered from severe fear aggression, the logical choice was to get a puppy. I read countless articles about the “best” breed for retired people – under ten pounds, non-shedding, friendly, good with children, and intelligent. We carefully chose a reputable Maltipoo breeder to ensure that our puppy came with a clean physical and emotional slate. The word adorable does not begin to describe this pup who garnered the attention of every person who saw her. Several repairmen asked my husband if he was carrying a stuffed animal because she so resembled a small teddy bear who never blinked. I became a “dog mother” and hundreds of dog photos joined the hundreds of grandchild photos on my phone. My Facebook page became a shrine to our new addition, Bella. Yes, we were hooked and thought that we were really rocking this puppy thing.

Imagine our surprise when our adorable puppy started several not so adorable behaviors. It was later explained to us that dogs, just like humans, go through a “teenage” phase when they are about nine months old. Their behavior changes from cute antics to the “I don’t think so” and “You can’t make me” stage. I won’t go into a description of these less than wonderful behaviors, but suffice to say that I shed many tears and questioned our competency as pet owners. We hired dog trainers, stayed up late at night reading articles, and purchased every treat Petco had available. Our kitchen started to look like we were running an upscale kennel due to the excessive amounts of dog food and treats decorating the counters. I even baked “human grade”treats, which by the way, does not mean that any sane human would eat them.

Just when I was ready to give up hope that our lives would ever return to normal, most of the difficult behaviors subsided. We still have a few things to figure out, but sending our dog to boarding school is no longer being considered. We celebrated Bella’s first birthday a few weeks ago, complete with a pink tutu and a fresh batch of bone shaped treats.

And they call it puppy love.

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