Getting a dog definitely entails a major lifestyle change, much more than I realized at the time. We had purchased (and even read!) a number of books on puppies and dog training, and thought we were ready our new arrival. But life with a cat had not prepared me for a puppy's destructive energy and almost constant need for attention, and I confess there were moments when I wondered what we had gotten ourselves into, and whether this was really such a good idea after all (in retrospect of course, the answer is a resounding "yes!").
During his first 6 months with us, until he reached about 1 year old or so, Llewelyn was into pretty much everything, including: shoes, especially crocs (which are still a popular chew toy to this day), socks, toilet paper (very fun to grab the end of the roll and pull), tablecloths (also pulled, until they came completely off - we quickly learned to clear the table completely, especially when we left him alone), sofa cushions (knocked to the ground regularly while we were out), magazines grabbed off the side table (despite being behind a barrier) and chewed to bits. He also like to steal the handbags of unsuspecting female visitors and run off with them.
He was a destructive force in the backyard, digging holes left and right whenever we had our backs turned. We soon had a sort of landslide developing on one side of the yard...
Who, me?
We had read that it's a good idea to put a puppy in a crate or pen when he's left alone, but Llewelyn had spent the first five months of his life on a farm in a state of almost total liberty, and being cooped up, especially when we weren't there, displeased him highly, and he was extremely vocal about it. We tried to persist for several days, we figured he'd eventually get used to it and accept the situation, but then he discovered that he could hurdle himself over the side of his pen, and we gave up. So came up with an alternative solution: we dog-proofed the first floor and made sure all of the bedroom and bathroom doors upstairs were closed when we left the house. This turned out to be an acceptable arrangement for everyone. Llewelyn still wasn't pleased to be left alone, but after several days of leaving him alone for very brief periods, and then, very gradually, increasingly longer one, he finally understood that when we left it wasn't for good and sooner or later we would come back. Thank goodness, because our vacation time was almost up and we had to go back to work very soon. I had radically revised my work schedule so that I worked afternoons only and could walk Llewelyn in the morning, and Henry would rush home at 4 p.m. to walk him again. This little dog had no idea to what extent we were (willingly) turning our lives upside down for him.
It took a number of weeks, but we did settle into a routine in the end, and eventually his destructive behavior all but disappeared as he matured. Now we look back fondly at his antics, and almost miss them. Except for an occasional stolen slipper or croc, he's now a very good and well-behaved dog. Which makes things easier to manage, but we laugh a little less often these days than we did during those first few months.
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