The Escapades of Foster poopy Lawrence
Ramblings of a Crazy Dog Lady
I know there are many valid reasons why people choose a puppy when adding a furkid to their family but boy are they hard work. For the life of me why they don’t adopt a nice middle aged dog from a shelter will always amaze me. Why wouldn’t you want an already toilet trained, well mannered calm and grateful adult dog ?
At Dogtown I foster a lot of the sick pooplets when they come in but it’s rare we have puppies at dogtown so it’s not a regular adventure I partake in. It’s been over a year since my last foster pooplet and I forgot how seriously hard work they are. I seem to spend most of my time outside in the cold winter weather waiting for my pooplet to pee and poop. And he seems sure that outside time is playtime. Standing in my garden in my slippers and dressing gown at all hours of the night is not for the faint hearted. Those 10-15 minutes I wait for the miracle of poop, feels like eternity. Neighbours driving past thinking there she is the crazy dog lady at it again.
Of course when pooplet does finally relieve himself and I proceed to my happiest dance ever. I know I look daft but I am so cold and so happy to be going back inside it really does feel like a huge celebration for me. Which is great for pooplet because that’s what I want him to think, pooping outside in the garden is the best thing ever. Of course pooping in the right place is just one of many lessons a pooplet needs. My current foster Lawrence was incredibly sick and weak when I first got him. I remember foolishly being concerned that he had never made a noise. One week into foster care, he was clearly starting to feel better because he gave out the biggest screech the whole Neighbourhood stopped what they were doing and looked to my house. I flew into the room thinking he had for sure created grievous bodily harm to himself only to see him sitting at the front of his crate wanting out. I was relieved he was ok and that he had finally made a noise but those previous silent days are long gone and I do miss them and now if there is a few minutes of silence I panic and know he is up to no good. Why is it with a room full of toys a low lieing tissue box is the best toy ever. Pooplets also remind you how lazy you have become with leaving your stuff lieing around the house on the floor. It only takes one missing shoe to remember those little teeth can do some serious damage. Oh boy and those teeth. Little needles biting into your arm, hand,legs, nose because you chose to answer a phone call instead of continuing to scratch pooplets belly. Training a soft mouth in a poopy is also an hair raising event. Every time poopy sinks his teeth into my skin I yell like he was killing me. He looks at me like I’m the fragile one now and as the echoes of my yelp surround the area causing people to wonder if he had bitten off one of my limbs. Instead of looking at me with concern I see that little flint in his eye as if to say right I’ll take this weak one out of lunch is late again. And seriously when did they get so fast? Last week he could barely walk and hold himself up. Today I looked down at my computer to type a little of this story and when I looked up he was nowhere to be seen. He had bolted across to the other side of the garden and was hiding in a hedge. My nerves were shot. I. began running around the garden like a shopper who had won a free trolley filling competition, lifting everything in sight. I started to worry could a hadeda pick him up and fly away. Those noisy beggars are always on my roof antagonizing my dogs. Oh and speaking of my dogs, the poor souls. All rescued and thinking their lives were going to be great only to be hassled with the foster pooplets. As the years go on I can see they have lost all interest in the new interlopers at the house. They make sure they are up on a high enough spot that pooplet can’t reach them and send dagger glances my way all day long. Oh boy, where’s that Lawrence off to now. A butterfly flew past and he has decided said butterfly is his and gave chase with no consideration where his legs are or that he does not have the magic powers to run through a hedge. I should really film these escapades I’m sure we would have a hit sitcom in the making.
But at rh end of the day raising a pooplet is not all doom and gloom, if you’re willing to put in the work while they are young, you can mocks yourself a well adjusted great little dog. You just need to realise they don’t come ready programmed. The work you put in to raising your pooplet will decide what kind of adult dog you will have. They provide hours of cuteness and why no-one has created puppy breathe eau de toilette I’ll never know because that stuff makes any human with a heart weak at the knees.
Next week puppy classes start, which are bound to bring more fun and giggles with my current pooplet Lawrence. He seems to think since he survived his serious illness there is nothing he cannot do. I’m sure that will generate another chapter in The ramblings of a crazy dog lady 🤗 that is my life.