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» Sunday, June 08, 2014Tuckering Out Tucker
I really do hate alarm clocks, especially on Sunday morning. However, James had to go to work, and he'd miscalculated the time he needed to get up and walk Mr. Dog, so he asked me to do it instead. Tucker was still crated, so I could have gone back to bed for a little while, but instead I took him out for a long walk up and down the street. Trot he did and sniff he did and he showed an alarming preference for dashing out into the street (good thing our street is quiet), but elimination? No.
Then I put him back in his crate (yes, I tucked him back up) so I could run to Kroger while it was still cool; it was actually nice outside. We still needed milk and bananas. I also found some boneless pork ribs we can do in the crock pot on Thursday, and I bought two new baby gates. Tucker seems to have no idea what a stove is and I don't want him sticking his nose in something hot. (Sentimental sap that I am, I did still keep the old baby gate Willow chewed at when she was a puppy. It's downstairs.) Back home, I put up the gates and then the two of us had breakfast. Then I took him out in the back yard. Now, we dog-proofed the back yard when it was first fenced, but good ol' Southern erosion has done its work and there are spots he can get out under the fence. So I was afraid to let him run loose like James did, although at this point I can follow more quickly. He did finally pee, to my relief. Willow was drinking so much water by the time she left that we got used to her running out and "draining the tank" first thing
We also played a couple of games of throw the ball and throw the stuffed mouse, and after another walk I managed to sit and have lunch. He fell asleep on the recliner and I watched The Wild Wild West.
And I was glad of that extra baby gate when I had to start the pot pie for supper.
He's been bouncing around like a house afire since James got home. And even though James did take him outside, guess where he finally defecated. Yep, in the dining room. Oh, and when I told him "Shame on you! Bad dog!" he retreated under James' legs. He runs to James now if I scold him.
The truth is, we've just forgotten how active a young dog is! We've been so used to older Willow that we forgot "turbo dog" and her latching on to a toy and holding on so hard you could lift her off the ground, and oh, how she could jump.
To be honest as much as we wanted to give a dog a home, we are hoping Tucker will help us, too. We've pretty much been in the Slough of Despond since Willow got sick and in stasis since she died. We need a good shaking out of our torpor. I hope we didn't bite off too much.
The fact is I get scared when I start new things, even if they are things I like. And I'm a different person than I was back in 1998, when we brought home a new little brown puppy from the pound, and, to be honest, not as well. I gave up my telework day walks because I craved sleep so much; I still do.
Hopefully in the end he'll not only be our pal Tucker but Dr. Tucker as well.