The next day was uneventful, although Annie made it very clear that she approved of the rice I cooked for her breakfast and sprinkled with her new puppy chow. The day was spent with short walks, small meals, frequent cuddles and quiet introductions to her new family. Well, mostly uneventful: at one point Louie decided Annie needed to understand precisely who was Dad’s favorite little dog, (his words, not mine), and snapped at her.
I did not know such a small dog could make such a loud noise—she literally screamed. I picked her up immediately, visions of shark bites dancing in my head, and went into a dark room where I sat with her in my arms and stroked her quietly. Much to my surprise, she calmed down almost immediately! This was the first indication I had of just how capable she was of adapting and understanding that despite being a stranger, I was safe for her.
She slept at the back of her crate again that night.
The next morning, Sunday, she once again required me to “haul” her out with the leash to go pee and to have breakfast. I gave her more puppy chow and less rice, and her appetite showed that was perfectly acceptable.
She went into the crate, with the door left open, for a mid-morning nap. I was given the opportunity by Louie to show him how wonderful I thought he was, and during our cuddle/play session, I noticed Annie, asleep, but stretched out on her cushion!
Before she woke, I brought a small ball into the room and after a bit of play with Louie, the ball ended up about three feet from the crate door. Annie sat up and looked at it, far out into the ‘danger zone’, and then stepped out, on her own, and picked it up! I’m used to new dogs taking much longer before taking an interest in toys or playing, but there she was, happily chewing on the ball, outside the crate!
Annie and Hugo
In the afternoon, she was on my lap for a long petting session, then suddenly to jump down. Since I had seen her x-rays, I knew how bad things were ‘on the inside’ and I didn’t want her taking chances so soon. I reached quickly to stop her, and she screamed again.
I don’t know how others react to a puppy’s scream of terror, but for me, it feels like my spine is trying to climb out my ears. Once again I scooped her up, somewhat less fearful for my own flesh, and took her back into the dark room. Once again, she settled in and recovered in an amazingly short time. I knew I had a special puppy then, and hoped we might have a special relationship. How special it was to be, I found out Sunday night after she had been in my house, in my pack, and in my arms only three days.
At bed time, after everyone had been outside to pee, I put her into her crate and closed the door. Instead of heading to the back, she lay down next to the door—something very new for her. I had no sooner noticed this than she began to whimper. Thinking she may have left something unfinished outside, I re-opened the door and Annie came right out, with no reluctance at all.
Instead of heading for the door, she came to the sofa where I sleep and stood up against it. I realized she didn’t want to sleep in the crate that night, which I thought was a wonderful step forward.
What I hadn’t realized was that she wanted to sleep with me.
And she did.
A bedfull of Bulgarians – Jeff, Louie and Annie