Oh, Polly

It's really something else to be relied on, to care for a living thing.

Until we got Polly, I don't think Tim and I knew what that was like. If we didn't care for plants and they died, it was sad but we really didn't care. Frank needs weekly food/water/litter fill-ups but mainly just does his own thing. Between Tim and I, we care for each other and rely on each other in an emotional way, but Tim doesn't really need me to make dinner in order to survive. (Right, Tim? :)

Polly is teaching us things.

To start, she needs us. She needs us to let her out, to walk her, feed her, and to give her water. When we are late with any of those basic needs, she lets us know -- sweet, sad eyes, accidents, insane hyperactivity (last night, I found out Polly was NOT turning into devil-dog, she was just really, really hungry).

Polly graduates from puppy class next week. I'm not sure I really realized this until this week's class, but I really care about her development, also. I want her to be the good, loyal, sweet dog that I know she can be. When she's not, I question her AND I question my own ability as a puppy owner.

Allow me to paint a picture for you.

Before puppy class, I left Polly on her lead outside because she was flipping out. Every time I got near her to pet her or let her off, she would start jumping and barking and scratching me. I was seriously wondering if this was it, if getting a puppy was a huge mistake. By the time Tim got home, she was still freaking out and he took her to her crate for a time-out and calm down (sanctioned by our puppy trainer, no judgement if you have a dog and have crate trained, haha).

We let her out, fed her, and voila, she was calmed down. She was just hungry.

We got in the car and went to PetSmart for class, and she sat with her front paws on my lap in the back seat the whole time, and just melted my heart. I was so happy that it seemed like she needed me and she was learning that I was one of her caretakers. The scratching wasn't personal.

Then, when we got to the store, flip the switch. Polly was pulling at the leash, jumping around, could hardly wait to get inside. During class, she was obstinate, jumping on everyone and everything and the whole time all I could think was "PEOPLE ARE JUDGING US! SHE'S GOT COOKIE IN HER CHIN FUR, SHE NEEDS A BATH, AND SHE'S FORGOTTEN EVERYTHING WE'VE TAUGHT HER. SHE'LL BE A SOCIAL OUTCAST."

At the very height of the night, we were in the back by the grooming products, trying to practice "stay" and "recall" and Polly took a giant dump. Oh my goodness, we were so embarrassed. I felt bad, Polly was trying to go outside. But Tim and I were tense. He was trying to find a clerk to help with the mess and I was just aware of the poo on the floor and trying to get him to use the grooming station's help, before we BOTH realized that there was a self-cleanup station nearby.

Mess cleaned, and the trainer came over to observe Polly's skills. More jumping, some listening. It was not her best performance.

And that's when I realized, Polly relies on us, and we care very much about raising her up to be a good, healthy dog. She needs us to feed her, yes, but she needs us to show her consistency and patience, too.

I asked Tim on the way home if this is going to be a "Marley and Me" type of story. But it's not time to think about how the story will end. (And Tim told me that Polly is nowhere near as naughty as Marley. The trainer might not see it, but I agree :)