I’m long overdue for an update on my darling Lila Belle, and I apologize for it taking so long – you see, I’ve been a bit preoccupied. And so we begin…
Lila is a very, very smart dog. She knows the difference between her doting Mom sitting on the couch and playing with her and her toys as opposed to her Mom sitting on the floor and playing with her. She prefers the latter. The former evokes a Jekyll-and-Hyde transformation to cute, docile, pleasantly-chewing-on-her-proper-toy into crazed mini-wolf with teeth of small razors.
The efforts with housetraining are going swimmingly as well. While Lila is very astute to her inner digestive & excretory systems, so much that she knows to start whining at 2am, 4am, 6am, and 7am (while in her crate) so that I will wake up and let her out, she also takes much glee from taking two bites of food, one sip of water and performing her second-best trick; namely, peeing on the floor. She really is quite talented.
Another recently-developed trick by my brilliant puppy is her ability to bark. If there was a MENSA for barking dogs, my little Lila Belle would be elected president straight-off. She has learned not only to bark at the chair, the couch, the fireplace, the bookcase, but now also her toys! The cats! Her uncle Mike! And ME! She has perfected the ‘run-lunge-bark’ trick commonly performed only by older dogs. Lila is an overachiever – she’s gifted in the ways of the bark.
We mentioned toys – as to be expected, my sweet puppy is somewhat spoiled. (Not a shock to any of you, I’m sure.) Not only does she play with her toys, specially designed to help her during this “teething” period that I commonly refer to as “painful, dangerous puppy hell”, but she has taken advantage of the multitude of cat toys that were long ago abandoned by my darling felines who prefer to play with items like milk caps, beer boxes and luggage. (They, too, are creative.) Apparently not afraid to buck stereotypes, Lila has enjoyed a pink dangling feather and green sparkly mouse to the extent that her, ahem, excrement often sparkles. Nobody doubted my dog would be effervescent, just not that much.
Thankfully, the weather has been nice, so we’ve been able to traverse to the nearby parks to exert some of this fantastic puppy-energy outside instead of the preferred method; i.e., chasing the cats and running around the coffee table until she slips and slides on the hardwood floors head-first into the entertainment center. (Undaunted, she does it again and again, despite the sure-to-be-growing knots on her head.) The park involves Lila overestimating her size and ferociousness…she has a predilection for barking at dogs a wee bit bigger than she is, such as a Great Dane or a Mastiff. She is also very proficient in the chewing of grass, leaves, and sticks. And digging – this puppy can dig a hole in anything (including our park blanket. A new one is on the shopping list.)
Lila’s best trick, however, involves biting. While I don’t think she INTENDS to go for my fleshy little hand (or arm, or tow, or leg, or ankle, or – a new one from today – my boob), she does it with such gusto that I’m starting to wonder if she’s part-Vampire. The scratches and bite marks on my body likely make others think I’m an avid fan of ‘cutting’. Nothing like a puppy to make you look like a disturbed, self-masochistic girl from super-crazy-land.
And yet I rush home after work, anxious to hear what the dog walkers have reported (yes, I have them. Yes, they’re ridiculously expensive. Yes, I know how obnoxious that sounds, but I work really, really far away and gas would probably cost the same. No heckling.) and ready to receive the tail-wagging face-kisses that can only be given by a sweet, darling, VERY talented dog. I mean, really – despite the sleepless nights, despite the barking, despite the peeing and pooping and biting and craziness that comes with owning a new puppy, it’s worth it. After all – how can you resist this face?