Chronicles of Trenton and D-W Learning Ranch: Puppy Tails and Puppy Tales

In February of 2010, our kids pooled their money to purchase their very own puppy. Since Dad is not a dog-lover, this purchase first required begging, pleading, and eventually a signed contract, specifying the dog's every need that the children would attend to. The puppy was selected from a neighbor dog's litter that had been born on Christmas Day, 2009. The mother was a black lab and it was uncertain which breed the father was. We selected a loveable, chubby brown and black puppy the neighbors had dubbed "Chunky Monkey."

There are not many better days than the day you bring home your first puppy. These kids were proud. They continued banking their money in a little glass jar to save up for his required shots and dog license. On that day in February, we became dog owners. Those kids were troopers doing their best to keep the dog fed and watered, learn how to train him, and clean up after him. We parents decided that puppy care is a good training ground for developing responsibility. The kids cared enough to look out for someone other than themselves.

I admit, I grew fond of the dog and took him for walks each morning down by the pond. He was a friendly companion, though he did frighten all the wildlife away.

Unfortunately, our friend's life was cut short. On Christmas day, 2010, our 1-year-old puppy went missing. We scoured the neighborhood searching for him, but we have come to the conclusion that he was the victim of a likely homicide on account of he broke loose and went to visit the neighbors pigs. That neighbor had already threatened to dispose of our puppy if he came to visit again. I guess the temptation to visit that piggy farm was too great. And the cable he was tied with was too weak. Poor nosy puppy. Our hearts were broken.

We have missed our Chunky Monkey, though I have to admit that it has been nice to have a break from doggie care.

However, when we paid a visit last Saturday to some neighbors who have 2 litters of puppies on their farm right now, we couldn't help but take one home with us. It would have been futile to resist. You see, those puppies all needed a home. Surely we could help one!

When we first arrived on the scene, my friend welcomed us to the puppy farm. We really were there just to pick up Lisa, who had spent the night. All around us were yapping, jumping puppies. One had to be careful not to step on them! While waiting for my daughter to collect her things, I walked over to the puppy that was resting on a blanket and picked her up because she looked lonely and timid. We became fast friends and my kids, seeing my connection with this one, decided to capitalize on that. They quickly encouraged a transaction for that puppy. So, we made a deal: we would clean their van inside and out in exchange for this puppy. Dad sealed the deal and drove away in their old van with Brigham and the puppy inside.

By the time I arrived home, the kids were already cleaning out that van while Rachel was tending to the puppy. Apparently, Dad had let them know that the only way they had ownership in this puppy was if they participated in the cleaning. I have never seen these kids work so efficiently! Their new found purpose stimulated some power deep within them to work cheerfully as a team and stick to the task until it was complete--without adult supervision. Imagine that!

When the work was done, they pampered that little puppy and gave her tons of love and affection so she wouldn't miss her siblings. Here is the coolest puppy on the block:

Introducing "Marble"

She's a sweet thing. Her Mother is a Black Lab (the sister of Chunky) and her Father is an Australian Shepherd, so she is a smart, gentle puppy. The American Indians used to call Australian Shepherds "Ghost Eye Dogs" because of their bright blue eye coloration. Marble has a brown left eye and a blue swirled right eye, which looks like a marble. Hence the name.
(Amber's creation.)

We had a bit of a rough first night, in which our little infant pup woke up every other hour wondering where she was. Though I explained to the children this might happen and instructed them on how to train her to sleep through the night using the training schedule I used for my babies, somehow the children were oblivious to her whining in the night. So, since I couldn't sleep through her sad songs, I spent a part of every other hour that night attending to her water and cuddle needs. (I know, I'm a softy.) But I have to admit that while holding that shivering little critter under the moon at midnight, she and I bonded. The moment reminded me of peaceful nights with my own infants. I didn't mind. After all, she was used to having warm bodies to sleep next to and she was unfamiliar with her new home. So I cuddled her and she settled right down and went back to sleep. Each time I came out, her water had frozen, so I had to replace the ice in her bowl with water. She would lap some water, jump around a bit, then settle back into her pile of towels in the little doggie house--until about 2 hours later when I would here her whimpering at the door again.

At her 6 am call, I woke Lisa up to take a turn attending to her needs. Lisa's response was, "it's 6am already? I didn't hear her at all! She must have slept through the night!"

Ha!

After that night, we moved her dog house into the barn and added a heating pad to her pile of towels. That seems to help. She has slept through every night since!

She's a keeper.