This week I almost succumbed to a case of adopter’s remorse. After three months of watching Truffle like a hawk from dawn to dusk, he is far from house trained. I have taken him outside or to his pee pad as often as nine times a day. I have kept charts of what and when he’s excreted, exercised, eaten, and drunk, to help me discern possible patterns. I have carefully cleaned the scenes of his misdeeds with an enzymatic cleaner, though I suspect the rugs in every room are redolent of sprinklings he’s done while I blinked. I have faithfully rewarded him when he’s performed correctly. On the rare occasions when I have caught him in flagrante, I have leaped to whoosh him to the pee pad. So far, nothing has worked.
At one point, I thought he was getting the hang of it. But that was not because he was getting house trained. I was. In my desire to extinguish his marking behavior, I was making it impossible for him to have accidents, by sheer dint of taking him outside every hour or two. So after a couple of weeks of almost no mishaps, I decided that it was appropriate to teach him to “last” for more than 120 minutes, especially since he was continent from 9 p.m. to 7 a.m..
At the same time, I started giving him a tiny bit more freedom around the house—meaning that I let him be for three minutes in another room before I went looking for him. Big mistake! I should have known better than to change two variables at one time. But I felt bad about confining him in the mud room after all those years in a puppy mill cage, especially since all he wanted was to follow me around the house.
No sooner had I started this new regimen than poops began appearing on the rug. And twenty minutes after he’d marked seven spots in the yard, I would find golden droplets dribbling slowly down a table leg. Belly bands were no help. Although they kept our floors and furniture legs clean, they essentially gave him permission to continue peeing in the house. Also, they tangled the hair in his belly, which made brushing painful.
I cannot tell you how mentally exhausting I found this. I had trained, what, twelve dogs in my life before? None had been anywhere near this difficult. Of course they were all puppies from normal backgrounds, not adult former studs who had been forced to sleep, eat, play, defecate, and urinate in the same cage. So Truffle has plenty of excuses for being the way he is. And there is one heaven-sent gift from Saint Roch, patron saint of dogs: I can park Truffle on a bed, a sofa, or a chair, and he behaves nobly. And since he can’t get down on his own, that means that I can go to the kitchen to get a glass of water without worrying about him.
Nevertheless, when on a snowy morning two days ago, five minutes after having emptied both his systems on the pee pad, he ran into the living room and pooped, I almost lost it. In the best of times I do not wake up singing like the lark, and this latest contretemps practically sent me over the edge. What was I thinking, I asked myself, when I adopted this dog? I knew that Pomeranians can be hard to housetrain. Would things go on like this forever? Would I just get more and more tired until one day I’d be found collapsed in a crumpled heap next to the pee pad?
And then I had a revelation, possibly also courtesy of Saint Roch: Truffle is not just a pet. He is not here simply to look adorable and provide me with fun, exercise, and companionship. He is the means that the universe has granted me to lessen the total amount of suffering on earth. I can’t join demonstrations, shelter immigrants, or rescue earthquake victims. But I can make a difference in the life of an innocent six-pound creature. And that insight, that I was helping to decrease by a fraction of a trillionth the amount of pain in the world, shone a new light on the watching and the scrubbing and the drudgery, and filled it with meaning.
24 Responses
Any chance he has a UTI? I feel for you both!
I appreciate your sympathy, Jen! He stays dry in his crate from 9 pm to 7 am, so I think it’s a behavioral issue–more difficult to solve than a UTI. But he’s seeing the vet on Monday, and maybe he’ll prescribe some miraculous Chinese herb….
Oh, Lali. Truffle is SO fortunate to have found you. A source of kindness, protection and comfort, you are his safe harbor, something he has never known before. Summer is coming and maybe just spending time outside on the grass will be enough encouragement that he won’t want to soil his own domicile any more!
You’re right. Just being able to take him on 30 minute walks, which he loves, is already helping.
I don’t know. You are a saint, but at what point does your increased suffering outweigh your satisfaction at having rescued him, when there very well may be someone else out there (in fact many someones) who might love him and give him a perfectly good home, without exhausting themselves? When is the cost to your own wellbeing not worth it? He’s not a person, a child you’re rejecting. He’s just a dog that needs a good home.
Well, I’m a saint who is getting a lot of bang for her buck, despite all the work. Truffle is lively, affectionate, smart in many ways, and it’s enormously rewarding to watching him master things like jumping on and off sidewalk curbs.
Bless you and Truffles. You make a differences to not just Truffles but to so many humans
It’s good to have a project that is also warm and cuddly!
There ARE specialists in dog behavior – perhaps it would be worth it?
You must be exhausted!
I like your attitude toward suffering, yours and his – I have a lot to learn in dealing with my own, as I see no point in most of it, nothing that contributes to me being anything more than a more exhausted person, micromanaging my body and my ME/CFS and all the other physical problems just to get through each day, and not being able to focus on writing due to that and some other problems that also shouldn’t be problems (adults ought to be able to talk to each other and work things out!).
But it still sounds fixable – Truffle has problems, and you are eminently qualified to deal with some of them. Please keep posting – I’ll be praying.
All prayers appreciated! The suffering–discomfort, really–involved in helping another creature is so different from the suffering caused by illness. It is so much harder to find meaning in the latter, because it doesn’t make the world better in any appreciable way.
The nuns used to tell us to offer it up, but patient suffering (which I do as best I can) is not a benefit I can see to the world. Nor the death of children from measles. Nor the many things we’ve had to deal with lately.
I try, but my ‘offering up’ is very erratic.
I remember “offering up.” It gives meaning to suffering–not a bad idea.
I believe Saint Therese may be helping Saint Roch with this one. I wish you all the best.
Yes, her too!
Such a lucky dog
I know you know how it is. You’ve been on your own dog project for so long.
Just a thought!
Maybe he misses the confinement, a little bit.
Too much freedom may be hard for him.
Maybe some time in his crate during the day would settle him.
My puppy has a Benebone chew fish I got at Orvis last Christmas.
Its hard, not soft and doesn’t squeak….but he loves chewing on it.
It relaxes him.
You know, you may be right! Crate time during the day would give us both a break. I hope your lovely Cavalier is doing well.
Well, it’s been over 6 months now and Luna still needs a LOT of monitoring. But the rare good weather days with more walks are helping, and the backyard fencing has been a godsend (except for all the shoveling to make a path, and then the trenching in deeper snow so she can’t walk over the fence). I agree with your reasoning on the mission we serve. Keep going!! You’re not alone. These former breeders are not like other rescues or any other dog you may have had. Blessings.
Thank you, Lucy. That article you sent me when I was about to adopt Truffle was a huge help. Will hope to see you and Luna in the magnificent new dog park!
Lali, whereas there is SO much to admire about your determination, grit, and love, I hang with Suzi W., because you are my first care. And from my limited experience, it seems that Christine has a good point. The thought of your pup’s previous life gives me chills, and it would be foolish not to recognize the range of potential sequelae. Thank you for offering Truffle so much lovingkindness.
I agree that Christine’s suggestion is worth trying. Truffle is probably emotionally sturdier than he appears.
Oh Lali, I feel your frustration with house breaking. Coco was 8 years old when I adopted her and had not been house broken. It will be 2 years in May since she came to us and only recently has she learned to use pee pads and not rugs. She still will not go out if it rains or snows but thankfully she will now use the pads. Hang in there, it takes these poor souls longer to learn some things but they are so grateful to have a loving caring home eventually they do. I have a folding doorway gate that is easy to set up and take down that you can have if you think it might help. Little Coco still has some rugs that are off limits because I’m not sure I can trust her. But she is so loving it’s all worth it and I do not regret adopting her. I’m hoping you have they same success soon. Marilyn
Thank you for your offer of help and support, Marilyn. It means a lot.