This is Riley, a 9-week old rescue I adopted on Wednesday.
He’s adorable, and has been my shadow. His little feet pad behind me, sometimes in front of me, sometimes all around me. He let me rub his tummy a few times today, play with his paws, and shower him with affection.
It’s been an adjustment. He’s a puppy and thus requires a lot of attention, but we’re figuring each other out. I’m getting better at catching the signs when he needs to potty. He told me twice today on his own that he needed to go out. He jumps in his bed in my study without prompting now, and will nap often. He is still finely tuned to my movements, often popping up and following me if I leave the room. Tonight though, he was tired enough to not notice I had stepped out. He stayed quiet until I came back in the room, and then promptly took him out to go potty.
I’m learning a great many things already. Not only his cues for potty, how to satisfy his curiosity, gradually introducing him to the chickens, encouraging him to play with Daisy (my roommate’s dog), letting him know he’s safe, but also how patient I can be, and persistent. Potty training, crate training, adjusting to a new routine all take time.
In my head I can often see the end result and the steps to get there. Now I see I often neglect or ignore the time to go from one step to the next, and that it isn’t always as fast as I expect or think it should be.
I’m also capable of greater emotional depth than I give myself credit. Riley needs structure as much as empathy and compassion, and positive re-enforcement. It’s a challenge, especially when he is excited and lunges or bites, as if he were still with his litter mates.
This is his first big step into the world. He’s learning who he is, and I’m right there with him. It’s so amazing to see his growth, and mine. Four days into this journey together, and my love for him keeps growing. I feel fortunate, humbled, and glad to be able to bring him into my pack.