Setting the Scene (Post 3)

Before continuing, it may be helpful for me to explain the purpose of this blog. As described in my first two posts, when I first considered adopting a dog, I took time to carefully consider all the ways my life would change. I talked to other dog owners in grad school. I found a vet and generated a list of expenses. I looked at my schedule and asked myself if I was willing to modify my routine. I knew these things would be hard, but felt I was ready.

In addition to the aforementioned considerations, I'd also done research on problems new dog owners commonly face and asked myself if I was up to the task of managing them. Again, I felt I was, and I hoped that by adopting an adult dog with a more stable temperament, I'd have greater ability to avoid the few problems that would be harder for me to handle: Because I live in a house split into two apartments (I'm downstairs and 3 guys live upstairs), I was looking for a dog not prone to excessive barking and who didn't need a huge yard to run around in. Because I am a graduate student, I needed a dog who didn't have terrible separation anxiety and who didn't need hours and hours of exercise each day. Beyond that, because I considered myself a responsible and capable person, I thought I was prepared for ups and downs and an intense period of transition. In many ways I was right, but in many other ways, I was wrong.

It took about 2 weeks for all of Lucy's quirks to emerge and for me to develop a full understanding of just how hard it will be to help her settle in. It turns out that ALL of the issues I'd hoped to avoid are in fact huge problems for us: Lucy has lots of anxiety. She spends much of her time howling at the noises in my apartment. There are several common "triggers" that almost always induce an aggressive or panicked reaction (bikes, motorcycles, nighttime/darkness, certain breeds of dogs, certain sounds). And she has copious amounts of energy that not even 2.5 hours of walking and chasing balls around the tennis courts can ware down.

I told the vet and Dog School trainer that based on the info I had from her foster mom (and based on my memory of our first week together), Lucy seemed like she was doing a lot WORSE since I'd brought her home. I was terrified I was traumatizing her further. Both of them assured me that her increased energy and personality changes are likely accounted for by positive changes in her life (even if the resulting behavior changes are in some ways negative). More specifically...

Boobies! 

We don't know what Lucy's life looked like before she was brought into the shelter, but based on the fact that she was never spayed and that she didn't have her Dewclaws removed, she wasn't in the most responsible or loving home. She then wandered the streets, pregnant, hungry, and sick. She was taken into someone's home, delivered 10 puppies, brought to a shelter, moved into foster care, and medically treated. When I brought her home, she was still underweight, still had some worms, and definitely was still recovering from pregnancy (for the first few weeks, everyone noticed her boobs and asked how recently she had puppies haha. You can see them in early photos, though they've now shrunk).

Now, she is fed regularly and has gained the weight she needed to. She is farther out from having carried and nursed a giant litter of puppies. And she is settling into a home where all her needs (physical AND emotional) are met and where she is so, so loved. Now, I could get on board with the idea that being physically healthier has led to more energy, but I was skeptical of the idea that her very obvious increased anxiety was actually indicative of feeling safe--that she needed to be comfortable enough to show/express her fear. BUT then I looked back at photos from our first days and week together--a time I remembered her being so calm and happy. In all the pictures, she is making this sweet smile, which at the time I interpreted as one of tranquility and contentment. I now recognize it as her expression of worry and anguish... it's the face she makes when she can tell I'm getting ready to leave for school, when she is nauseous in the car, or when she hears the upstairs tenants doing laundry in the basement. She rarely makes that face now, but instead barks and whines. Perhaps the vet was actually right...

Her anxious smile at the adoption center

Anxious smile on our first afternoon together

Morning cuddles.

I'll add that my understanding of her behaviors/problems has become much more nuanced as I have had the opportunity to observe Lucy in lots of different environments (my apartment vs. my parents' house; the Petsmart versus dog school; outside during the day versus outside at night). I am hopeful about her ability to adjust--and my ability to help her--because of the changes I've already seen. I still find myself occasionally wondering whether I really have what it takes to give her the life she deserves, but those moments of self-doubt are now fewer and farther between. I think she knows when I'm feeling overwhelmed because she wiggles her way onto my chest, resting her head in the nape of my neck, breathing loudly through her nose as if to say, "See, I'm relaxed, and we're going to be okay!"

Afternoon naps

Anyway, what I'm trying to get at is that bringing Lucy into my life has already been one of the most challenging and simultaneously rewarding experiences I've had, and this is only the beginning for us. I've learned a TON about dog care and training, about compromise and patience and commitment, and about myself. This is all happening as I'm about to enter one of the busiest and change-filled years of my life. I've kept blogs as I embarked upon two other life-changing experiences in the past (when I studied abroad in Denmark and when I spent a gap year in the UK) and found sharing my experiences to help me to gain perspective. Plus, I just love this dog and think she is AMAZING.... so smart and loving and full of potential. I want all of my family/friends to get to watch her (and us) grow. I don't know how many posts I'll end up writing, but for now, it's my chance to reflect and share.

SO MUCH ENERGY.

I'll end with two quotes that have been my guiding philosophy for our first month together:
1. A true relationship is two unperfect people refusing to give up on each other.
2. In the end, only three things matter: How much you loved. How gently you lived. How gracefully you let go of what you cannot change.

Right as I'm ready to upload this post, Luc jumps onto the bed and rests her
head on my keyboard. Classic. 

We're gonna make this work.