I am a nervous wreck today. I thought yesterday couldn't go fast enough, but today, I find myself watching the clock even more intently, just waiting for the time I can leave and go home to my puppy.
Little Stella had a rough first night, but it was nothing compared to the trauma my husband and I suffered worrying about her.
It all started pretty well. She was nervous when we picked her up, but once we got her in the car and petted her and said some reassuring things to her, she seemed content. When we brought her into the condo and put her down, she began exploring and sniffing and making herself comfortable. We set up her crate with some toys and an old shirt of mine, and although she whined a little when we put her in there, she eventually cuddled up in the shirt and fell asleep. When she awoke a little later, we ventured outside (a place Stella does not like at all so far), brought her up, gave her a drink and tucked her back in.
She slept peacefully until about 11:45 p.m. When I awoke, she was whining so loud that I was sure the neighbors could hear. I knew I shouldn't immediately go to her, because it would teach her that whining achieves results, but I wanted to make sure she was OK. Sure enough, she'd had an accident in her crate. After going out and getting all cleaned up, she went back in with a clean shirt to cuddle and fell back asleep until about 6 a.m.
I barely slept a wink in those hours. Puppies are so fragile at this age; I was so afraid something had happened to her. I kept going out to the living room to make sure she was still breathing, tempted to wake her up just so I would know she was OK. I felt like Shirley MacLaine's character in Terms of Endearment, who, in the opening scenes, tiptoes into her sleeping newborn daughter's room and calls to her husband that she thinks the child fell victim to crib death. She pokes at the baby until it starts crying, then nods to herself and walks out of the room, saying, "that's better."
My husband was worse off than I was. I thought he was sleeping soundly, but every time I would come back into the room after checking on Stella, he'd ask how our girl was doing. This morning, I was hesitant to leave for work, because I was afraid he would start whimpering.
This is a big life change, and we're going into it somewhat blindly. We've been reading all we can and asking questions of people who should know, but when it's just us and her, and she's crying for attention, it's hard to resist picking her up and petting her till she falls asleep in our arms. We know we shouldn't do that; we don't want to encourage her to whimper, but we also want her to know that she's safe with us and that we love her. It's hard to know what to do in those circumstances. Most of the time, we just sit, staring at each other with broken-hearted looks on our faces.
I was worried about potty training her, but I think that will be easy compared to this. I'm sure the potty training will be hard and frustrating, but at least it won't make poor little Stella so upset.
I miss my sweet little girl. I only hope she's napping contently at home right now and will have an OK first day there by herself. My husband plans to check on her later, but I know I won't feel comforted until I actually get home at 6 and see her scamper over to me.
This is a rough time for all of us...but I just know that once we get past it, we're going to be a very happy family.
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