Yes, I’m a fan of the dragon movies. First we should start with what “normies” do in selecting and training a new pup.
First, the family has the umpteenth dinner conversation about getting a pup. Mom finally relents, knowing that she’ll be ultimately responsible and the de facto owner once the kids leave for college.
Family chooses the breed, etc. and loads up on accessories depending on situation (indoor/outdoor, size for collar and bet et al). Wee wee pads are purchased.
Puppy comes home with new name and promises for potty and obedience training to begin asap.
Lots of hugs and family photos. Day one goes OK. Months follow, pup becomes family dog, is potty trained, and knows a few basic commands. Life goes on.
Now here’s how to NOT do it.
Abused, emaciated pup is dumped in front of a farm, calls go out to find a home and no-one will help, including Animal Control (1/2 mile in the country outside district) and Humane Society. Efforts are made to socialize the pup, finally being able to hold up a hand to pet without pup thinking she’d be hit.
Outdoor pup gets chic plastic-covered DeWalt tool box as doggie den, patrols property around house religiously and visits neighbors from time to time.
Little yellow pup gets a name and collar. Goes into heat and is immediately targeted for sexual conquest by neighboring farm dog. Closest spay date possible nearby is three months out, not a possibility. Drive three hours for an overnight in Big City to have spayed at our old vet. Unable to catch her routinely, absorbable sutures are used and medications are given in treats/food. “Come when called” is not an option… yet.
Ten days after surgery, healing is complete and Sara (after Hall & Oates song Sara Smile, because she’s a happy, well-fed semi-feral pup now) goes visiting on her own.
On New Years Day, Sara is viciously attacked by an unknown dog, and is found lying motionless in the front yard. Infection sets in immediately, with inordinate swelling leading to drainage and necrotic tissue. Princess Lulu’s huge metal crate is commandeered and space set up in a warm room for convalescence.
Many wee wee pads are purchased. Sara will not eat or drink. Over the next three weeks she recovers slowly, depending upon humans for all food and water, epsom salt baths, and several weeks of strong antibiotics. During the second week she tries to wag her tail. End of third week and skin and bones again, she’s slowly scampering on a leash, still unable to use fully the necrotic leg.
What we know is that she likes and trusts certain people, hopefully has a healthy fear of large dogs that are not her BFF Princess Lulu (our 36 lb. dog), comes to us but doesn’t associate it with the command Come, does not bite us or complain one bit about her condition, and is finally flea-free and bathed within an inch of her existence.
The future holds promise if the leg heals enough to be used. I’ll continue to put in the time and effort, as she has stopped soiling the crate in favor of being carried out to the grass, and only uses the pads for shredding or piling in the corner if dirty. She’s neat! And despite all odds she has a will to live that is enviable.
That said, it’s not the easiest way to potty train a pup. But in a pinch, it works. Neuter and spay, the kindest way! Cheers, Dee
Cooking with Dee 