Where things are getting easier:
1. He sleeps in his crate. Like, we put him in and he doesn't make a peep. The first time it happened was the single greatest day of my life. I mean, to not have to hear him whine and bark for however long he would whine and bark? Pure bliss. It is also nice to be able to sleep in my bed and not on the floor next to a friggin' dog crate.
2. Potty training is getting better. We *almost* never have accidents. The times we have had accidents have been a) because we're dumb or b) he was sick. Or, I suppose there was also a c) he was mad at me.
3. He knows his name. It's pretty great that he comes when called. I feel like I win the lottery any time anyone listens to me. I mean, sure, he associates his name with treats. Whatever. He comes.
4. He's not teething as much. Sure, he's recently discovered unopened wine bottles to gnaw on, but hey, at least it's no longer my hand!
5. We *mostly* have a rhythm. In addition to sleeping in the crate, he will wake at a normal time (meaning, it's light outside). I get up with him, we do our business and then he does his business (outside) and then we chill or play for a few hours before the rest of the world wakes up. I don't mind the time I have just the two of us, but I will state again for the record: If these assholes want him to love them more, they really should consider getting up with him in the morning. Rocco and I have lived an entire day before they even see him. That ain't my fault.
And this brings us to where things are either the same or worse...
1. He can now climb on things. We have a leather couch. He likes to jump on it to chew on the fake plant on the table behind the couch. He has also had the zoomies on the couch. Did I mention the couch is leather?!
2. He refuses to play fetch. I blame the 12-year-old for this one. They made up a game where Rocco grabs a toy and the 12-year-old chases him around and around saying, "I'm gonna gitcha!". Rocco loves it, we think it's adorable, and so, well, we don't change it. The only bad part is when people actually want to play fetch with him. They throw a ball, he goes to get it, but then never gives it back. And if you try to get the ball from him, he just plays the "I'm gonna gitcha" game. Truthfully, it makes me laugh, but I guess it was kind of annoying when my mom just wanted to play fetch. She wasn't interested in running around the house. Go figure.
3. He continues to eat things he shouldn't. Like the fake plant above, he has now found toilet paper, decorative grass (I guess it's considered grass?) in our ficus tree, cardboard boxes, and decorative flowers (are you sensing a theme here?). This leads us to...
4. He keeps getting diarrhea. He was sick most of yesterday and woke up at midnight, 2am, and 4am last night to go to the bathroom. To add to that, he came with me to pick up the 12-year-old from practice (he loves car rides) and threw up in the car. I suppose the only upside to that is that he cleaned up after himself... by eating what he threw up. Blech.
5. He learned to hump. This was a horrifying revelation. He started humping his snuggle puppy, which was weird enough, but then humped our neighbor's puppy. Last night, he humped our other neighbor's (grown) golden, and our neighbor basically told his dog to not expect our dog to call her the next day.
6. He loves only me. Listen, I love that he loves me best. It's a nice feeling, especially when a) the kids don't need me like they used to and b) our last pet was my husband's. She loved him so much, she tried to kill me numerous times so she could have him all to herself. But now, this pet is mine. The problem is I am the only person who exists in his world. If I leave, he constantly looks for me. This past weekend, I went to my book club and didn't get home until late. At 11:00, my 12-year-old called to ask when I was getting home. Apparently, Rocco would not stop barking in his crate (which, you'll see above, we had fixed). So, I had to leave (and make my other friends leave since we all carpooled). When I got home, I got into bed and Rocco promptly laid down to sleep. I must admit this made me giggle maniacally, but it's not good for us. Am I never going to be able to leave the house again?!! To add to that, the next morning, he both peed and pooped in the dining room. That'll teach me, I guess.
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BONUS: (Shh, don't tell anyone, but...) I might love him more than anyone else in my house. He doesn't talk back. He has an opinion and sometimes lets me know it, but in the end, he does what I want. He's the very best snuggler. And he seems happy here. Which makes me happy.
Next up - teaching him English!
