Last night Pip woke up at about midnight and started barking. I ignored it at first but it went on for about 20 minutes and I thought maybe he wanted to go to the toilet. So, I got up and let him out the back door. He proceeded to gallop up and down the back deck wanting to play – did I mention it was midnight?
I left him outside, vainly hoping he would decide to go to sleep in his kennel. But no! He galloped back and forth along the deck, stopping to scratch and bark at the back door, alternating with lunging at our bedroom window which – you guessed it – faces on to the back deck! So this went on for about 15 minutes after which Him-In-Doors said ‘You’re gonna have to lock him up again’.
This is probably the point where I should say that Him-In-Doors was not particularly keen on the whole getting-a-dog caper. In fact, he made it very clear that I would be the one on constant poo-patrol and walking him in the rain in winter. He has been scarred by a previous dog experience – dog-sitting my Dad’s pampered pooch Holly – but that’s a story for another day.
So back to Pip, I managed to get him back into his crate. Doggy treats are the most wonderful invention! He whimpered and barked for another half hour before settling. I sat up on the couch reading Dog Whispering books, thinking how spookily similar this was to control crying with the kids. While the babies howled, I’d sit by the fire, scouring Baby Love for pearls of wisdom that would revolutionise my children into sleeping-through-the night-angels. Seven and 10 years later respectively – it’s worked! Let’s hope it doesn’t take Pip that long!
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