VANILLA is 10 months old, she is blonde with a fine small face, and when her eyes look at me, I really feel she knows who I am.
I am her Mamma, I am the leader of the pack, I am her feeder. And she is my puppy!
I was planning on having a third child...I still haven't given up on the idea, but considering the unwillingness of my husband to co-operate in this regard, we opted for a puppy (might be better for the marriage than finding a donor...)
Yes, you've probably heard it before, the pet becomes the substitute child. But I would never in my wildest dreams have imagined the consequences of adopting this new "child". Sleepless nights, washing vomit from my bathroom floor, vaccination and trips to the vet, deworming cures (!), and endless guilt-trips when leaving her alone too long... And people never told me dogs could be so disgusting. She will lick the toiletbowl vigorously and then overwhelm my five-year old daugther with wet "kisses" of affection. I can tell you that driving with a dog who has her mouth full of some kind of stinking pooh is not my idea of a nice time! So what on earth made me do this?
Maybe it was my 11-year-old son. We had lived in Sofia for nearly a year when friends told me about the prospect of Labrador puppies, and if we wanted one. Once my son got the news of this, there was no turning back. I must confess though, that when I saw Vanilla for the first time (she was a day old) I had not the slightest feeling of motherhood. She was tiny and slimy. Her eyes were glued shut. She stank and when I took her small body in one hand (yes, she fit into one hand) she peed on me.
Or maybe I got her because I felt alone and needed someone in the house. Being the non-working spouse who follows abroad is not always as rosy as it might seem (but we'll talk more about this subject in later columns...)
But since we got Vanilla ( she was two months old when she came to live with us) my whole everyday life revolves around this dog. I run around the house to remove anything she might want to chew on (I make the house dog-safe!). I have bought close to 200 leva in fake dog-bones for her itching teeth, only to find she has buried them in the garden. She has destroyed a tree. Yes, a whole tree. She ripped off the bark and this spring the tree never seemed to wake up from its winter sleep. I have run off to the vet when she was bitten by a tick. I have sat awake by her side after she was sterilised at six months old, helping her to get up because she could no longer walk. I have carried her when she was still small enough to be carried, because if you ever tried to walk a dog in Sofia, you will soon discover that a small puppy is easy prey for larger stray dogs or guard dogs. Not to talk about all the pooh I have picked up from my lawn...
I know I over-romanticised being a dog-owner. And maybe it was true what a good friend of many years said "What!? You with a dog? I never thought of you as a dog-person!'
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just to prove these people wrong, and because I guess I am quite stubborn, I enlisted my dog in summer-school! Yes, it's true. Vanilla has been to a discpline school for two months this summer (practically coinciding with our summer vacation!) And you wouldn't believe the results! She no longer jumps at people who visit us (and this is a great financial relief to me, since dry-cleaning bills were starting to frighten me...) she sits when you tell her to (but you have to give her a treat...) and she does (occasionally) come back to me when I call her name...This might not seem like such a big succes, but to our family I would say this might actually be saving the marriage. She still might come into my bed-room in the night, nipping at our bedsheets, and trying to get into our bed, but she no longer barks when I guide her back to her sleeping quarters...
The only problem now is that she takes commands in ...Bulgarian! So I find myself shouting 'NE' a lot. And 'na mjasto' (stay), and 'ela toka' (come here)! What a weird situation, to be learning Bulgarian because of my dog!
Should I give any advice, and I guess I will since I am writing this column; don't get a dog unless you're really, really, really keen on dogs, and have a lot of time to spend on making the puppy a functioning member of the family. Because to me this was the reason to get a dog, I didn't want a guard dog, I wanted a family member. Well, that means spending time with your new member, and actually educating that third child! Even if it means you have to ask other people for help.
FAMILY MATTERS... This week, Kristine Thelle launches the first of The Sofia Echo's new series of the Family Matters column. Next week, Danielle Trussoni will have her say, and from then on, Kristine's and Danielle's columns will alternate.
I am her Mamma, I am the leader of the pack, I am her feeder. And she is my puppy!
I was planning on having a third child...I still haven't given up on the idea, but considering the unwillingness of my husband to co-operate in this regard, we opted for a puppy (might be better for the marriage than finding a donor...)
Yes, you've probably heard it before, the pet becomes the substitute child. But I would never in my wildest dreams have imagined the consequences of adopting this new "child". Sleepless nights, washing vomit from my bathroom floor, vaccination and trips to the vet, deworming cures (!), and endless guilt-trips when leaving her alone too long... And people never told me dogs could be so disgusting. She will lick the toiletbowl vigorously and then overwhelm my five-year old daugther with wet "kisses" of affection. I can tell you that driving with a dog who has her mouth full of some kind of stinking pooh is not my idea of a nice time! So what on earth made me do this?
Maybe it was my 11-year-old son. We had lived in Sofia for nearly a year when friends told me about the prospect of Labrador puppies, and if we wanted one. Once my son got the news of this, there was no turning back. I must confess though, that when I saw Vanilla for the first time (she was a day old) I had not the slightest feeling of motherhood. She was tiny and slimy. Her eyes were glued shut. She stank and when I took her small body in one hand (yes, she fit into one hand) she peed on me.
Or maybe I got her because I felt alone and needed someone in the house. Being the non-working spouse who follows abroad is not always as rosy as it might seem (but we'll talk more about this subject in later columns...)
But since we got Vanilla ( she was two months old when she came to live with us) my whole everyday life revolves around this dog. I run around the house to remove anything she might want to chew on (I make the house dog-safe!). I have bought close to 200 leva in fake dog-bones for her itching teeth, only to find she has buried them in the garden. She has destroyed a tree. Yes, a whole tree. She ripped off the bark and this spring the tree never seemed to wake up from its winter sleep. I have run off to the vet when she was bitten by a tick. I have sat awake by her side after she was sterilised at six months old, helping her to get up because she could no longer walk. I have carried her when she was still small enough to be carried, because if you ever tried to walk a dog in Sofia, you will soon discover that a small puppy is easy prey for larger stray dogs or guard dogs. Not to talk about all the pooh I have picked up from my lawn...
I know I over-romanticised being a dog-owner. And maybe it was true what a good friend of many years said "What!? You with a dog? I never thought of you as a dog-person!'
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just to prove these people wrong, and because I guess I am quite stubborn, I enlisted my dog in summer-school! Yes, it's true. Vanilla has been to a discpline school for two months this summer (practically coinciding with our summer vacation!) And you wouldn't believe the results! She no longer jumps at people who visit us (and this is a great financial relief to me, since dry-cleaning bills were starting to frighten me...) she sits when you tell her to (but you have to give her a treat...) and she does (occasionally) come back to me when I call her name...This might not seem like such a big succes, but to our family I would say this might actually be saving the marriage. She still might come into my bed-room in the night, nipping at our bedsheets, and trying to get into our bed, but she no longer barks when I guide her back to her sleeping quarters...
The only problem now is that she takes commands in ...Bulgarian! So I find myself shouting 'NE' a lot. And 'na mjasto' (stay), and 'ela toka' (come here)! What a weird situation, to be learning Bulgarian because of my dog!
Should I give any advice, and I guess I will since I am writing this column; don't get a dog unless you're really, really, really keen on dogs, and have a lot of time to spend on making the puppy a functioning member of the family. Because to me this was the reason to get a dog, I didn't want a guard dog, I wanted a family member. Well, that means spending time with your new member, and actually educating that third child! Even if it means you have to ask other people for help.
FAMILY MATTERS... This week, Kristine Thelle launches the first of The Sofia Echo's new series of the Family Matters column. Next week, Danielle Trussoni will have her say, and from then on, Kristine's and Danielle's columns will alternate.
