Someone's on the Naughty List...

I am often amazed by the ability dogs have to "just know" some things, even when us sensory-limited humans have tried extra hard to keep any clues hidden.

For example, how did Shadow know that beneath the Christmas tree... buried between little ceramic houses and amidst a bunch of other presents of the two-legged variety... was a brand new Kong dog toy just for him? Sure, the tag said "To Shadow," but... well, I'm not that crazy.

The Crime Scene

Just like a little kid on a quest to uncover all of Santa's secrets,  Shadow's suspicions began several days ago, when all the gifts sat in a pile on my desk, waiting to be wrapped. He couldn't see the Kong. And I can't imagine how he could have distinguished it from everything else by smell. But more than a few times I caught him staring anxiously up at the pile, wagging his tail, and whining.

But since we already unwrapped his big gift (a bed), I was not about to give in.  He had to have ONE gift Christmas morning. So this weekend, I  stole a few minutes to wrap the toy and place it under the tree with a nice little "To Shadow" tag.

(Click here to check out Shadow opening gifts on his first Christmas last year.)

Exhibit A

There it sat, untouched and peaceful for one whole day. But then... what did I hear just a few hours ago while typing away in my office? Rustling. Rustling like paper coming from the family room.

This is what my mind said: Shadow doesn't usually make noises like that. Shadow makes noises from chewing, bouncing his toys against the floor, and drinking water. But the presents would make that noise. Especially the tissue paper in the bags for my parents, but... no... no way. Shadow never EVER touches things that don't belong to him. He's good like that. He knows... but...


Slightly worried but certain that all would be fine, I walked into the room... and right in on the crime. There, in the middle of the floor with a tear and obvious signs of a struggle, was the gift. And there, a few feet further was Shadow... frozen and staring at me -- not with his usual tail wag, but with a look of "What? I didn't do it."

Ah, the joy of Christmas. Fun for kids and dogs alike!

The Remorseful (?) Culprit

Easy Walk

Replacing Shadow's collar with a harness (only for walks) was possibly the wisest thing we've done for the little guy since he came home.

Shadow just loves people. Even more than squirrels and acorns, as far as I can tell, which is pretty impressive. When Chris and I set out to get a dog, one thing we knew hands down was that we wanted him to be loyal, protective to a certain degree, and friendly.

Of course -- me being a first-time dog owner and all -- I didn't realize that "friendly" meant he would try to play with every jogger, cyclist, grandmother and three-year-old out enjoying Mother Nature. (And by "play with," I mean pummel.)

I also didn't know that Labrador retrievers are known for giving every last drop of energy possible to reach their target, whether or not they strangle themselves in the process. Call it heart, call it chutzpah, call it dedication if you want. But most of the time I just call "NO!"

That's why walks with my wonderful little growing companion were, well, pretty unbearable over the last couple months.

In desperation, I accepted a choke collar at one point from a well-meaning neighbor, read a few articles about it, and gave it a shot. Let's just say Shadow and I entered a new level in our relationship that day, much in the way that friends aren't really friends unless they can have a fight.

So, after hearing the word "harness" from several people in the neighborhood and doing more research to make sure it wouldn't harm him, I put in an order for an Easy Walk harness. It's the same product Shadow's former teacher recommended a month ago (call me slow on the uptake if you want), and according to the box "is designed to gently discourage your dog from pulling" while walking on a leash. The low chest strap, it says, has a "patent-pending martingale loop" that's supposed to make it easy for walker to control dog without hurting him, without encouraging him to pull harder, and without damaging his trachea.

Two weeks after it's arrival, cynical me has become one of those people in the neighborhood who advises people to buy this thing. I actually enjoy walking Shadow now, and I don't come back sweaty and pissed.

And more importantly, Shadow doesn't seem to mind it either. Of course he tried to eat it the first couple times I put it over his head, but that's what dogs do. Now Shadow just sits there panting and waiting to frolic outside with his two-legged companion, who, for whatever reason unknown to him, is a billion times happier.

First 'parenting' scare

Here's a scary moment for you, about which I was going to write in my journal... then realized that's pretty much what the blog is for...

I just took Shadow out for his post-breakfast walk, hoping to get in a decent distance because weather.com was predicting a storm at 10 a.m. It was a little before 9 when we stepped outside to a calm, mild morning with grey clouds. I figured we had some time.

But by the time we walked about 200 feet, those clouds had grown much darker and the wind had picked up. By the time we turned around and reached the side of the house, trees were swinging, the sky was charcoal grey, the rain had begun, and the noise that sounded like planes and lawn tools a minute earlier was undoubtedly thunder. It was clear a large storm was about to hit, and I had a metal key in my pocket and Shadow's leash, which was attached by a metal clip

We needed to get inside, asap. But Shadow had other plans, namely going absolutely mad on the leash, thrashing and jumping and pulling me this way and that. And while this is not an altogether rare occurrence, with thunder thrashing from all around us and trees as tall as buildings pitching in the wind, I was afraid he knew something I didn't... like a tornado was at the other end of the street and making its way over.

Then, amidst all the thrashing and me yelling over the wooshing leaves for him to come towards the front door, the unthinkable happened. He writhed his collar off and started sprinting. He was booking it through the yard, feet from the street. My heart stopped as the multitude of horrible things that could happen flashed through my mind in a fraction of a second. He's going to run away. He's going to be hit by a car. I'll never catch him. He'll be lost in the storm. 

The adrenaline was pumping as I raced after him. He sped toward me and away, thinking it was a game, as the clouds broke and the rain began to pour. By the time I ended up physically straddled on top of him in the front lawn, the storm was fully overhead and I wasn't sure how to get him, sans collar, to the front door. There was no way to hold onto him, and getting his collar on would require me loosening my grip and probably allow him to slip away again. My entire body was fluttering, the bones in my arms shaking.

So I did the only thing I could think of. I picked up the 45-pound thrashing little bugger, carried him across the lawn in a probably very uncomfortable position, straddled him again while I unlocked the door (any neighbor who might have been looking out a window at this time got quite a performance) and tossed him safely into the foyer.

I locked the door behind us and collapsed on the stair -- wanting to both hug and strangle him at the same time -- and let the weak, trembling feeling wash through me.

Judging from his bowed muzzle and melancholy disposition, he knows he did something wrong. If only I could know what's going on in that adorable but little head of his.

Remember When?

Remember this little guy? The above photo was taken just a couple hours after Chris and I brought our adorable, sweet, shy, laptop-sized puppy home. He took an immediate liking to the space under the living room coffee table, and settled down for a long April's nap in his unfamiliar home.

He was only eight weeks old at the time, and weighed 13 pounds. Double that age, ramp up that weight by about 150 percent, exponentially increase his confidence to explore the house, and we come to today.

He's still adorable and sweet, but he's added a dash of rebellion, a whole quart of independence and maturity (now he only cries when he wants attention, the way toddlers throw tantrums in the grocery store, not as an innate automatic response to being alone), and a sprinkling of adventure.

"Those are nothing," he told me yesterday while pummeling down the staircase that used to stop him cold.

And yet, after all that growing up, he still finds comfort under tables and chairs (those he can still fit under).

As I first-time dog owner, I was quite surprised at how much Labrador retrievers grow from eight to 16 weeks, and how many of their adult facial features come in. Suddenly, he's a puppy in a little dog's body.

To provide some context, here is a new photo of Shadow under the same table this week. (Yes, the rug is now gone. And yes, that's because of him...)

Puppy Steps

On one hand, it's hard to believe Shadow -- or "Mr. Shadow" as some of his fans like to call him ;) -- is 15 weeks old today.

But then again, the extent to which he's changed -- in his understanding of us, his level of obedience, and even his sheer size -- makes it hard to believe we've only had him for seven weeks!

Just days ago, for example, I had to carry him down the stairs to get to the front door. They were too steep. If I tried to coax him down on his own, poor Mr. Shadow would just sit at the top, whine, paw at the edge, and look absolutely beside himself. It's the way I'd look if I ever attempted skydiving.

But today, with the help of treats and a blocking of his escape route, he's gone down those steps three times already! So what if he does it like a person with a limp and a fear of heights? It's a big achievement. (Come on, do you really think I'd be so cheesy as to put "It's a big step" there?)

Socially, while he hasn't mastered staying on four feet to greet people, he's already found himself a neighborhood girlfriend and (in my blatantly biased opinion) is one of the best puppies in his kindergarten class. (Watch the video to see how that all began.)

And finally, an update on two of the biggest problems we had in the beginning:

Sleeping: While I don't relish getting up at 6:30 every morning (goodbye Saturday sleep-ins), I've come to really appreciate the extra 3-4 hours of daylight. Plus, the middle-of-the-night barkfests have completely disappeared. The guidebooks nailed it when they advised having patience and letting him cry until he realizes it won't get him his way.

Biting: It's as good as a memory. He may have the occasional relapse, but it's fleeting and soft. The lesson to take away here is to never ignore biting, no matter how harmless or even cute it seems. Whether it's a yelp, a forfeit of attention, or a spray of water, do something when he nips and have patience.

Just like his weight, it's hard to notice progress when you're watching it every day, but some day you'll look back and go "Hey! Remember how he used to bite all the time?..." (or weigh 12 pounds?)

More videos:

Shadow Does His Chores

Drowsy Shadow

Round and Round 

Hit and Run (don't worry - he's fine, just clumsy)

Singin' in Shadow's Room 

Silver Lab Puppy Meets Kong

Shadow the Silver Lab Comes Home

Leon Goes Down

This just in:
Leon, Shadow's pet lion with the squeaky stomach and the crinkly behind, has been rendered mute.
"It is sad," said Shadow's caretaker, "but I it was bound to happen sooner or later."
Redirecting attention to the silver Lab's newest acquisition, a red chicken named Sam, she added, "Sam's looking pretty scared right now. I mean, if a lion can't even survive..."

Silence is Golden

I didn't want to jinx it yesterday, but for the second consecutive morning I arose to sunlight and silence. Both mornings came with feelings of shock, gratitude, disbelief, and a sudden pang of "Oh my God, I hope he's still alive!"

(That doesn't mean I didn't hear a few shorter bouts of barking a couple times during the night or early morning, but they didn't last forever. Can't blame a guy for trying, right?)

Whether it's Shadow's age, our training, or simply a sore throat from his Sunday night bark fest... it seems we have steered past one of the toughest stretches of the puppy journey and are nearing temporarily calmer waters.

Letting him practice being alone several times a day for short periods of time has definitely accelerated Shadow's development. If repetition is key to training a dog, it makes sense that 10 small quick exercises per day help prepare for the seven-hour overnight drill. Would you run a marathon without first practicing shorter distances every day?

Back to School

“So what kind of dog did you get?” the librarian asked today as I checked out 10 canine training books. It had been a month since my last visit, but pre Shadow I was at the local library several times a week picking up manuals on how to prepare for a puppy. I thought I had all the theories down… but evidently Shadow didn’t read the same books.

This second round of studying was spurred by the worst of several horrendous nights and mornings, the frustration from which hurting my interactions with my husband. Something had to be done.

It all started when – realizing we couldn’t get up at 3 a.m. for the rest of our lives to take Shadow to the “bathroom” – we didn’t answer his cries last night.

The experts say answering a puppy’s cries will only reinforce the behavior (with some leeway for the first week when he can’t hold it). I knew that before Shadow arrived. But the experts don’t specify that dogs can literally cry/whine/bark for hours in a row, until their throats are hoarse. Then it’s a hoarse cry/whine/bark for another hour.

At 5 a.m. this morning, under the sheets with my iPhone as Shadow yipped and yipped away, I searched Google for some magic bit of wisdom that I’d missed. Unfortunately, all I found were things I already knew and inane rants from people with no business responding to online forums. (What gives with that, really?)

But how do you train that out of a puppy, aside from going four weeks with nightly sleep deprivation and crossing your fingers when the light goes out.

They say some of the greatest ideas come under duress. Well, today I brainstormed and implemented a technique that can be done on the weekend if all owners work elsewhere, or throughout the entire day if someone is home.

Rather than going out of my way to make him feel like a part of my routine, today I sunk into my work and paid only enough attention to take care of his needs. I spent the next eight hours moving Shadow between his playpen and his crate, exiting either room the moment he began barking, and remaining out of sight (telepathically praising the creators of Google Docs) until he stopped and I could return.

I can’t quantify it in terms of volume or pitch, but there have been no more three- (or even one-) hour screeching sessions, and my stress level has plummeted like investor confidence in Greece.  A few more days of this and I expect to have a quiet, confident puppy in no time.

As a novice dog owner who frantically and frustratingly read every article I could find on the subject, I strongly advise giving this a try if you’ve got Fido-induced raccoon eyes. Or if you ever plan on getting a puppy, jot it down. Trust me, you’ll need it!

Check back later for highlights on all sorts of other puppy problems, and what techniques worked (or failed) for Shadow and his new puppy parents!

The Calm After the Storm

Oh my God, I feel like I've just run a marathon... or emerged from a week stranded in the woods.

After an hour of grocery shopping and other errands, I came home to find that Shadow wet his bed. Not his fault. But then he went puppy crazy for the next 90 minutes, biting, scratching, running and flipping all over the place on the leash, and acting in such a way that I couldn't allow him near our neighbors' kids because he was too hyper.

Figuring I'd exhaust some of his pent up energy, I took him outside for a game of fetch and chase-your-owner-all-around-the-yard. I was having a blast. He was having a blast. Then he stumbled upon some more interesting feces left by the neighbor's dog (who should not even be in our yard, let alone defecating there), and decided it might make a tasty treat.

Within two minutes he was whisked inside his play pen and a call frantic phone call was placed to his vet. "Just watch him," she said, adding that it's gross but all dogs do it. Phew, okay.

After a first-time tooth brushing (all he wanted to do was eat the brush),  it was time to clean his bed. During this time he had another accident in the pen and cried for the better part of the next half hour.

When I looked like the novice mother of triplet toddlers (hair frizzy in all directions, body sagging, raccoon eyes), it was finally time for dinner. When finished, he conked out under the coffee table, enabling me to pop a beer and regain my sanity (or at least take the edge off a bit).

Now the former devil is chewing quietly on his bully stick and leaning his adorable little face into my feet. And I once again become a sucker...

(Sorry for the glorified Twitter post... but if you want to know what it's like to raise a brand new puppy, this is as real as it gets!)

Progress

 If dogs could go to college, Shadow would be a shoo-in. He's already got the merchandise, the golden boy good looks, and lots of smarts!

Shadow has made great progress in the last week in terms of obedience and behavior. Our biggest breakthrough is that he will stay put with a treat just a few feet away -- even when Chris or I move behind him -- until we give the "okay." There is something special about how he looks up at me, waiting for my approval, like he’s a little kid.

In terms of biting/mouthing/nipping, he's still got work to do. Sunday night, however, he made a breakthrough.  While he was in a calm state, Chris and I each began scratching his belly. The moment he pressed his teeth into one of our hands, that person would cry a high-pitched "ouch!" and both of us would either turn our attention elsewhere or leave the room entirely. We repeated this many times, and finally he began to keep his mouth closed.

Today and yesterday, it was amazing and so rewarding to see him working it out in his head that he isn’t supposed to use his teeth. Like a fish gulping air, he now opens and closes his mouth but the vast majority of the time doesn’t actually bite. I’ve actually felt him soften his mouth when my hand (my fault) accidentally strayed to his teeth. Because it’s natural for a dog to play bite with his siblings, there’s something really touching about him holding back so as to not hurt us.

Like his accidents, there are still nips, but they are pebbles compared to boulders.

He isn’t going to win any obedience competitions, but I have it from several experienced dog owners that a 10-week-old puppy who can already sit, stay, lay down, and offer his paw has a very bright future : )

Speedbumps

Just finished three-hour deja vu, cleaning up accident after accident... then the accident he added while I was cleaning up. Two steps forward, one step back, right?

Some Tidbits

Shadow spent much of the beautiful 80-plus degree weekend outside, learning to play fetch (pictures tomorrow) and still trying (ugh) to eat dandelions.

Here are a few discoveries I've made that new dog owners might find helpful:

- A good hand lotion is a must. Even obsessive compulsive hand washers do it more often once the dog arrives, turning even spring or summer hands into sandpaper.

- Dogs dream, and in Dream Land they often bark, "run," and spasm. The first day Shadow came home, this caught me off guard and I feared something was wrong. However, as is also the case with people, there is a clear difference between sleep spasms and seizures.

- The area rug my husband had for three years lasted an entire week under the wrath of Shadow. In addition to accidents (which are hardest to clean on rugs), he saw it as a toy to be pulled up and unraveled. In its place, we invested in a cheap interlocking exercise mat. Not only does it protect the wood floor, it's soft to sit on and individual squares can be removed for cleaning after accidents.

- Baby oil works great to remove sap from dog hair.

- Filled hollow bones are the canine equivalent of babysitters. I have a few already stuffed with peanut butter and kibble (there are also pre-filled ones, but DIY is cheaper) sitting in a plastic bag in the freezer. This was an ingenious tip passed on to me by a family friend. Shadow thinks he won the lottery when he gets one, and the fact that it's frozen inside buys me more time as it takes him longer to lick out all the filling.

- I'm in the process of finishing two puppy playlists (without ultra loud noises or things that will scare Shadow).. When I'm finished, I'll have one playlist full of songs I will actually enjoy listening to while he's around, and another of soft (sappy, boring) songs that would drive me crazy on repeat but are soothing to Shadow when he's alone.

- There are hundreds of toxic plants out there, and many are in our yard. As soon as Shadow began feasting on all the dandelions, I got the ASPCA (American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals) application for my iPhone so it would always be with me. There are many other resources as well, but the app I have was free, lists every plant that can hurt your dog (or cat or horse), and includes both descriptions of symptoms and photos of the plants.

- Shadow sleeps a lot, but because I have to be on guard as soon as he wakes up, finding time to exercise is a harder than I'd expected. Sometimes I can manage to get in a 30-minute run, but otherwise I use the 10-Minute Solution DVDs. Each contains five 10-minute workouts, so I can do 10, 20, 30, 40 or 50 minutes... depending on what Shadow allows!

- We didn't want Shadow to be too focused on food, so Chris and I initially rewarded his bathroom achievements with praise and affection rather than treats. After too many bouts of leash tugging and puppy freak outs, I threw my hands up last week and began giving him just half a treat immediately after each time he goes outside. It's made a huge difference; I only wish we'd done that from the beginning.

* If you have a tip of your own you'd like to add, please send it to LauraShadow219@gmail.com, along with your first name and the name and breed of your pet. I'll collect them and use the results in a future post.

Video: Singin' in Shadow's Room

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say someone snuck into the house in the middle of the night last week and replaced our sweet-tempered Shadow with a crazy dog for a few days… but then early this week brought our easygoing guy back.

By Friday, Shadow’s separation anxiety, constant accidents, nipping, outright refusal to be guided by a leash, and inability to sleep more than an hour at a time had taken a toll on me and Chris. On Saturday, as I reported earlier this week, we began full-on crate training, meaning he would spend a majority of time in his “room.”

Since then, we’ve had TWO completely accident-free days, he still loves the crate, and I’ve been able to leave him for 45 minutes at a time without worry that he’ll cry his cute little head off. For me, it has made all the difference, allowing me to get things done without fear of a soiled floor and enabling him to rest or play safely and happily on his own.

Accidents still happen (one actually occurred as I was taking a break from typing this), but compared to last week (4-5 a day), but they are FAR less frequent.

For anyone interested in crate training – which is named everywhere but rarely explained in detail – this is what we do:

Shadow now sleeps in his crate in the living room (no longer in the bedroom). Last night, in an unprecedented achievement, he actually slept from 11:30-5:30 a.m. straight.

When he wakes up, he goes outside. About 10-15 minutes after he eats or drinks, he goes outside. After waking up from a nap, he goes outside. If he won’t go outside or he falls asleep but I know he just drank a half-bottle of water, I can either watch him like a chained up hawk like I did last week or I can carry him to the crate. (Guess which one I choose.) When he wakes up or decides he wants out, he goes outside. Crisis averted. It makes for a happy puppy and a happy owner.

When he’s out he’s either eating, playing under my or Chris’ supervision, resting after having emptied himself, or training. He’s been doing the latter (sit/stay, anti-nipping, leash etiquette, fetch) 3-4 times a day for 10-15 minutes, and has shown marked improvement in all categories.

A final note on crate training: By not always closing the door, Shadow has come to see the crate as his bed, often going in or staying there voluntarily. Almost daily, he simply plops down, chews his bully stick and hums to himself (see video on YouTube or below) while I write on the other side of the room, or even in another room. He is never placed in the crate as a punishment.

I can barely believe he’ll be 10 weeks old tomorrow, but if I were a teacher I’d say he passed nine weeks with flying colors.

Did you miss something fun?

Photos: Shadow Gets Pretty

Video: Silver Lab Puppy Meets Kong

Video: Shadow the Silver Lab Comes Home

Shadow Turns Nine (weeks)

Human sleep hours: SIX   (Score! Best since Shadow's arrival!)

Puppy sleep hours: 12   (seven daytime naps in addition to his six hours overnight)

Puppy accidents: Four   (best yet, but so far we've got two for Friday and it's only 11:30 a.m.)

Shadow plays with his Kong underneath his favorite coffee table

Today is Shadow's nine week birthday, and he's definitely done a lot of growing (aside from what I'll estimate to be five pounds) since he came home with Chris and I nearly a week ago.

While "down" still seems quite elusive, Shadow recognizes the "sit" command and is making great progress with "stay." I found myself happily in error last night when Chris placed a treat on the floor and instructed Shadow to "stay" away from it until he gave the "okay" command. Granted, he only stayed away for about two seconds... but I was floored he did it at all considering just two nights prior he made the toddler "terrible twos" look angelic.

On another happy note, the number and severity of indoor accidents decreased yesterday. In addition to me paying attention to when he eats/drinks and taking him out 10 minutes afterwards, Shadow has started trying to tell us (via telepathy, it seems) when he needs to go outside. Several times yesterday he flashed an adorable "look at me" face and stared at meas if waiting for something (without any indication that I had food). Upon going outside after that, he did his business asap (he's figured out that when he does, he can go back inside).

It seems we've developed some sort of doggy-human line of communication. The next step is to get him to do it even if we're not right next to him at the moment or don't read his mind immediately.

We're still working on the biting/nipping, and his increased comfort with us has led him to start testing his limits (such as trying to jump onto the couch). But he's made great strides for such a young guy already, and has proven that he'll eventually master everything so long as we tell him correctly and consistently.

Oh, and the best part? He actually allowed me time to exercise for the first time in a week by taking an extra long afternoon nap not on my lap. Life is good.

Progress Report: Day Five

Shadow naps on a sea of puppy training pads.

It’s 2:30 p.m. Wednesday (Day Five) and Shadow is conked out in his crate, snuggling with Leon the Lion and an old T-shirt bearing my scent. He’s been an angel all day, but I would have said that at this time yesterday too – before he had two accidents in a row, launched into a 25-minute fit while I was cleaning the first in another room, and became a berserk little devil each time Chris or I took him outside.

But it was a blip in an otherwise sweet and as-obedient-as-a-baby-can-be few days, and his sudden lack of eye contact told us he knew he had misbehaved.

Raising a dog from puppyhood is definitely shaping out to be a challenge, but the benefits (he just woke himself up by his own hiccups, looked at me with his sleepy blue eyes, and resettled himself with a tired sigh – so cute) far outweigh the frustrations.

Click here for a video of Shadow pouncing around his new home.

On the housebreaking front, the number of accidents has been decreasing each day. The main reason for that isn’t that we’ve trained him well (although today he’s been staring at me when he needs to go… maybe the beginnings of a signal?) but that Chris and I are getting better at recognizing when to take him out. According to the experts, puppies are too young to physically “hold it,” so it’s really up to us to be recognize the signs. From my observations, if his attention isn’t occupied by sleeping, playing, eating, or chewing… he needs to go out.

He just can't get enough of that coffee table!

As far as training goes, he already knows to “sit” on command! We accomplished this with tiny training treats (or sometimes bits of kibble so he doesn’t eat too much) and 5 to 10 minutes of repetition every day. Sometimes he doesn’t want to listen – he’s still very easily distracted – but generally he’ll plop down when we ask. Our next challenge is “down,” which is not coming as easily.

We’re also working on biting and nipping. He’s a puppy, so I wouldn’t expect any less, but it sometimes takes away the fun of playing with him. We started by responding with “No!” and yanking our hands away, but yesterday decided to start making a yelp or “ouch!” sound and shutting down for a few moments when he bit. At best, he’ll realize he hurt us and will stop. At worst, he’ll see that his plaything stops playing with him when he bites.

The biggest issue for Shadow, however, seems to be separation anxiety. This is extra frustrating considering I ACTUALLY AM WITH or near him 24/7 but occasionally want to shower, brush my teeth or get myself something to eat. (Selfish me.)

Until today, the second I left his sight and he couldn’t follow, Shadow went berserk. First there was the whimper, then the whine, then he’d try to test the pen by throwing his body against it. Soon he’d start to cry and bark. And after a few minutes, I would have a heartbreakingly hysterical puppy on my hands, sobbing the way human beings melt down and choke on their tears.

I knew from Cesar Millan’s book, “How to Raise the Perfect Dog: Through Puppyhood and Beyond,” that returning during his whimpers would only convince him that crying is the way to make his people come back to him. So I waited behind the adjacent wall for what seemed like an eternity (the longest lasted 25 minutes, the shortest 8), struggling to ignore the pain and mentally willing him to calm down so I could go back to him.

For Shadow to break his separation anxiety, he must get comfortable with the crate.

It’s without a doubt the hardest part of this so far. I’d rather clean up 100 accidents than listen to the little guy cry himself numb. But as my father-in-law told Chris the other night: It hurts your ears and your heart, but you have to do it. (And yes, I know it is practice for a human child… eventually.)

So today I cancelled any appointments I had scheduled over the next week. I am devoting every minute (I would say “waking” minute, but there’s no other kind these days) to helping Shadow break his fear of being alone when I have to tend to other projects in the house or run out for an hour.

Today, my technique has been moving him to the crate every time he falls asleep on me and relocating his meal spot from the kitchen to the side of the crate. He’s also gone into the crate on his own several times to sit or play – so far so good!

Each day, I’ll increase the time he stays inside with the door open, as well as with the door closed while I’m in the room. Hopefully by next week he’ll be able to sleep there rather than the much smaller carrier on our bedroom floor.

Check back for updates on this progress. Anyone going through a similar predicament may find it useful – I certainly would have.

I was warned that getting an eight-week-old puppy would be like raising a baby – that he wouldn’t sleep through the night, he’d need constant attention, he’d cry when left alone, he’d make messes, and at times I’d be completely dumbfounded as to what he wanted. And so far, all that has proven true.

But as any mother would agree, it’s all worth it. When he nuzzles his face into my leg, cocks his head to the side in confusion, follows me around like a shadow, or pounces around excitedly (the canine equivalent of a baby laugh in my opinion), it doesn’t matter how little sleep I get or how many accidents I have to clean.