I have puppy brain—at least that’s what I think it is called. I was going to write a blog about something else, but right now, I can only focus on puppies.
This week we adopted, not one, but two nine-week-old Siberian Husky puppies. The cutest things ever. And so much work.
The copper (or brown) one has one blue eye and one green. We are calling her Freya. The mostly black one is a boy, who we are calling Loki. Overnight my life changed (at least for a while). I’m not sure who is training who. I’m sleep-deprived, and I spend hours following them around to keep them out of mischief. I’ve changed my morning routine. I used to shower right away. Now I do chores until they are ready to nap.
Outside I’m on guard for coyotes and birds of prey. I don’t think an eagle can carry them away. But what would I do about a coyote? I’ve got a broom strategically placed by the back door. I imagine myself wielding it to fend off a predator.
So far, their presence has only attracted a small cat. I think it is only here to tease them and show off its superiority and sharp claws.
I’m even willing to give up one of my compulsions. After dark, I usually close all the blinds to keep the darkness out. But now I turn on all the patio lights and keep the blinds open.
Puppy brain.
I’ve propped open all the screen doors for easy entry and exit as I carry both two puppies in and out.
My evening routine has changed, too. I set my shoes and robe by the back door for a middle-of-the-night potty run (usually at 3:30am). I find myself Googling, “Are yucca’s poisonous to dogs?” After reading the answer, I pull all the dried seed pods from the plant.
The three-gallon continuous water bowl I bought was a disaster.
It automatically fills the bowl when the water level gets low. Freya loves to dig in the water dish, splashing it all on the floor. The bowl refills itself, allowing her to splash out even more water. Pretty soon, I am sopping up all three gallons with a towel, which is also apparently a good dog toy. Every towel I own is currently in the dryer.
My house and yard look like a puppy playpen, littered with toys and soft blankets. There are two socks that my husband tied into a knot and a ripped-up cardboard tube.
Just like with babies, this phase will pass quickly, and I will have full-grown dogs capable of fending off coyotes on their own (and the occasional cat). They will be wonderful companions and hiking buddies. Something I need to remember while my sleep-deprived brain tries to function.
Watch for the occasional cute puppy photo on Facebook. Because. . . puppy brain.
