...that's why I have two.
Dogs that is.
Ginger is back! In her blazing red glory. Nat is now 33 weeks pregnant and GB wasn't taking well at all. There was excrement in the house. Baring of teeth. Just all around shenanigans.
I'm sure a lot of it had to do with the many changes and constant punishment she was enduring. But now, she's made her home with Klea and me. It was rough at first. Klea had been Queen Bee for a year and a half. There's no way she was going to give that title back to Ginge.
Plus, Ginge had not been on a real, honest-to-God, potty schedule since she left my care 17 months ago. So, yeah, I spent the first three days picking feces up off my floor at all times of the day. I don't think I'm letting my excitement shine through here.
The first time I picked it up and turned to her, just turned to her, she fell to the floor on her back and used her paws to cover her face. Any dog lover knows that this is a bad sign.
So, I didn't punish her. Not once. Three days of finding poop on the floor. No yelling. No hitting. No crate. I just picked it up and watched her hide from me.
On day four, I woke up and the poop was still in her butt. I know this because she got super excited about going outside. For the first time she got a treat after our morning walk. And now she so looks forward to her Mellow Mutt jerky that she wants to go for a walk every time I stand...or blink for that matter.