This past week has been puppy-intensive with minimal sleep, so I hope you don’t mind some pictures of the puppy.
Zu came from sketchy-ish circumstances. He is between 6 to 10 weeks: the people who gave him to us said he was 6 weeks at the time we took him, but the vet who saw him yesterday put him at 10 weeks. Since his eyes are still blue, we’ll split the difference at 8 weeks. I’m very okay with him being older than we thought. The people who were getting rid of his litter had them “ready to go” at a month but we managed to persuade them to keep him with his mom for an additional two weeks. By the time we brought him home, he was the last pup there. I feel slightly better that they might have lied about the pups’ age, since 6 weeks is still too young to bring a pup home and a month is nothing but cruel.
He had fleas when he came home, which we treated with baths and by dosing Cutter with Frontline. And there should be some funny commentary to go with this but I’m very tired. I have the sneaking dread I was either viciously abusive to Cutter John or his puppyhood was so awful that I’ve blocked out all memory of it, as I don’t remember the first few nights being nothing but a shrill, piercing howl. For a while there, Zu was destroying our brains; Brown and I went to a friend’s wedding this past weekend as shuffling, bleary-eyed half-dead creatures resembling human beings, and we almost complained about it until we realized one of the couples at the table had a three-month-old baby and they would have had the legal right to shank us.
Zu is finally settling in, though, which is good as sleep is not negotiable in our house; take it away and Brown and Cutter become enraged monsters, like shutting an alarm clock in with a mogwai after midnight. Zu slept through last night and is starting to learn the day’s schedule (FRANTIC PLAY three-hour nap FRANTIC PLAY three-hour nap, etc.). He’s a very good little puppy. We’ve had him a full week without a single housebreaking accident, and he’s already learned to sit on command.
Sadly, it is difficult to get good pictures of him. My camera is poo and I can capture him at a distance when he’s standing still…
Or hurtling towards me like a rocket:
Besides the sleep thing, the only issue we’ve had is he’s been encouraged to attack feet and pantlegs. The people we got him from thought this was “cute.” We think it’s “annoying” now and “potentially dangerous” later, since this pup won’t stay nine pounds for long.