Week One with a Pup

Daly the devil dog, in my first hour with him

Here goes another attempt to keep up a blog.  Why try again when two or three others lay discontinued?  Why have faith that the new experience of raising a dog will prove inspirational enough that even a fraction of my observations will see the light of day?  Because you gotta have faith, I suppose.  And faith is something that a perky, curious and rambunctious puppy often seems to provide.

Close up of "the little monkey" I was told I needed

A few weeks ago, my dear friend Georgia let me know that Life Is Better, her non-profit animal rescue organization, had picked up a roughly six-week-old puppy from Animal Control in Denver.  The little fighter had a broken femur, and the fate of his leg was uncertain.  What was certain was that his chances for a better life (he could have been euthanized if a rescue such as hers didn't take him) had just dramatically improved.  Two weeks later, on Easter Sunday, he underwent a successful surgery which inserted a plate, a couple of screws and some wire, and was on his way to recovery.  By then, I'd heard plenty about the little scamp and had seen a couple of photos -- and was volunteering to foster him.  I'd even suggested a name once Georgia first told me about him…Daly, for Sergeant Major Dan Daly, one of the most legendary fighters the Marine Corps (for that matter, the United States) ever produced.  As if his record of gallantry in the Boxer Rebellion and in Haiti weren't enough, Daly reportedly exhorted his men to charge the Germans at the Battle of Belleau Wood by yelling, "Come on, you sons of bitches -- do you want to live forever?"  Now THAT is an attitude to wield throughout life.

Yes, those are TWO Medals of Honor on Dan Daly

So one week ago, around noon on a Saturday, I received the utterly adorable little rascal.  It's been a roller coaster since then…the highs and lows of life with a two-month-old canine are pretty extraordinary.  Surely it's not so dramatic for those who've done this before, especially those who've done it hundreds of times (lookin' at you, Georgia), but when it's your first time being solely responsible for the care, feeding, hydration, piss breaks (more on that later…much more) and so forth for a puppy, your day can tailspin without warning -- or suddenly brighten when he greets you as if you've been away for a year.

Daly takes a Sunday siesta -- and no, he wasn't drinking.

I'll do my best to recall what I've learned so far.  Puppies are incredibly, indelibly and endlessly curious, even more than I expected.  Everything is fascinating and worth exploration, from people to plants to bugs to dirt…yeah, dirt.  If I had a nickel for every time his nose comes up covered in something from the yard after rooting around, I'd already be on my way to vast riches.  It occurs to me every time we're outside that he can detect so many more smells than I can, so I can only imagine the sensory overload that's taxing his microscopic attention span with each new breeze and turn around a corner.  And we are outside A LOT.  I'm not exactly working regular hours, so I spend a lot of time with him, and he has to relieve himself roughly every 30 seconds.  This is no joke.  It makes absolutely no difference if we were just outside, he will start peeing again out of nowhere.  And when he's tuckered out, after nonstop bouts with other dogs, surprise attacks in every direction, and running around on those little white-socked legs of his, he really knocks out.  It's the cutest thing I've ever seen.  Then a sound -- any sound, from anything, anywhere -- stirs him and he's ready for the next round.

Calm before the storm of energy that is Daly

The challenge for me, as always, will be following through on telling this story…and making it interesting.  He doesn't know it, but Daly has already convinced me that I can't give him up.  So begins a journey, and hopefully a long one.  I'm going to need stores of patience that I may not have, but I've already got a companion here who instinctively melts the iciest emotion.  He's sweet natured, soft and constantly playful, and has already shown early chops as a trail dog.  I find myself already considering how altered my life is as I ponder decisions ahead, from spontaneous trips to the mountains to longer periods of work or vacation away from home.  It wrecks havoc on my already-poor levels of punctuality and preparedness, but I'm starting to remember to carry poop bags and treats wherever I go. And for now, just walking down the street with the little fella on a leash takes massively longer than it did in my complete independence due to all the attention lavished upon Daly…he's just that irresistible.

Daly & me today, one week together

Note: If you are interested at all in adopting or fostering a rescue, or you know someone who might, please check out Life Is Better at the links below.  They are compassionate and simply extraordinary in the work they manage to do!


Life Is Better Rescue
Life Is Better - Facebook page