Lesson number two: trust your instincts

So, there we were: me hugging her a lot, she peeing of fear of everything.
Let me tell you exactly how prepared I was to have a dog: when we got home, I put Fiona in her dog leash and I stepped out of the car expecting her to just walk with the leash on. Yes, since then, I have learned that babies aren't born with driving skills.
Since we arrived back at home in the evening the first hours we spent together were during the night. Mistake number one: taking her to sleep with me in the room. She came to my bed and woke me up every two hours and when I would wake up and turn on the lights she would just look at me for a bit and go back to sleep. Finally, the third time she woke me up she peed on my carpet. While I went to get the carpet cleaner and start cleaning, guess what?
SHE HOPPED IN MY BED AND WENT TO SLEEP! I mean she actually settled on my pillow. I had to push her in order to have some room for myself. It was the first and last time she was in one of our beds. And it was the first and one of the very few ocasions she slept in my room.
The next day we started our very lasting and regular adventure in the new world of veterinarians. First of all: dudes, with a very few exceptions,you are the most dedicated doctors I have ever met.
You should imagine me and Fiona trying to walk to the vets cabinet: Fiona scared of going down the stairs or stepping down from the sidewalk, scared of going up the stairs or stepping up on the sidewalk, making maybe 3 steps than sitting on her butt refusing to move; me, with my sister, pulling and tugging at her,scared that I'm scaring her even more, or maybe even hurting her, trying to make her move. After we finally arrived at the doctor's, they told me that I had bought an overpriced dog and that if she would make it past her first year of life than probably she will leave a happy long life. At the end of our visit we made our first step in our most bonding experience we have had so far, which will enter the books of history by the name of "THE POOOOOOOP".
As we were walking home, she stopped.Of course in the middle of the sidewalk. And there and then, she did it: the most huge, green, horrible stenching poop a dog has probably ever produced. I looked left, I looked right, I started to turn green from the smell, and with the most shamlesness I have ever been capable of I started running with her away from there, before anyone could see us with the newly born Shrek.
Do not blame me for not cleaning up, I have paid the price for that by cleaning up maybe 50 kilos of poop since then, but trust me, short of a shovel, there was not much I could do.
Of course the thing seemed quite funny by the time I got home. That was unitl the next morning.
I had bought Fiona her very own bed. I have gave her half of my former toys (generous 19 year old me, right?). By that evening I have come to grasp the concept of making her feel comfortable with all the new things she had never experienced before, and not expect her to eat with a fork and knife. And so we tried to make her comfortable in her new crib, by watching TV with her on the sofa in her bed, and then moving her with her bed on the hallway such that she could still see and hear us. We all went to sleep content, with Fiona peacefully sleeping on the hallway. Little did we knew.
When my parents woke up, they stept out of their room.They turned on the lights, and, behold: The Kingdom of all Poop! All 5 meters of our hallway were literally filled with piles of vile smelling, ten shades of green and brown, widely different textures, of poop. And, of course, a peacefully sleeping dog.
The lesson to be learned, besided the odd variety of malodors out there: if you feel safe in one place or with someone, trust your instincts that you will be loved and accepted even if you let them see the less pleasent aspects of you. We all have our faults, but being able to share them, will most probably result in having memories to laugh at.
Next time: housebreaking Fiona. A small preview: you could never ever imagine the variety of things one can find on the streets of our town.

P.S.:The photo is of Fiona and Fluffy, which she had adopted as her new mummy/daddy/comforter.

Lesson number one: Never give up

When I decided it was time my parents bought the dog they had promised, I wanted to have the dog the next day. As some of you know, buying a dog isn't that simple, and usually it takes more than a day or two. Well, I had met Max, a male golden retriever a month before deciding about what kind of dog I wanted, so my mind was kind of set on this breed.
This being decided, I started searching the internet for offers. All of the places I found, delivered the 6-weeks old puppies in about 10 days after the order was made. But that was not fast enough for me. So a friend of a friend(still grateful for this, Adi& Sorina)told me that there was a puppy golden retriever at an animals supermarket in a town approximately 150 km away from where I live. Adi went to see the dog and when he said that the dog was cute it was enough for me.
I believe it is worth mentioning the kind of shopping spree state I was in: I had decided I want a 6 weeks old, MALE puppy golden retriever, and I ended up taking a road trip to buy a 3 months old, FEMALE, pretty much not a puppy anymore golden retriever. I still think it was a miracle that at least my haste let me stay consistent in choosing the breed.
So, there I was at the store, buying myself a 250 euros dog. Don't be deceived: the price was not for a dog with a pedigree, but for a dog that the minute I saw I thought was the cutest dog ever. Even though, when I look now at photos since back than, I can see a big resemblance between the puppy Fiona and a rat the size of a small lamb.
As an expectant proud owner of a dog, I went prepared with a list of four names of which Fiona seemed to fit perfectly. Later my sister told me that it was even more suitable as Fiona is a lighter version of the golden brown the dogs of her kind usually are, and the name means "fair, light" in Celtic.
So, there I was, the proud owner carrying my puppy in my arms to the car for the road trip back. For those of you who don't own a dog, let me say that the difference between a 6 weeks old puppy and the 3 months old Fiona is about the same as the difference between a new born and a three years old baby. So from wanting a small, fluffy, warm fur ball, I bought myself an over priced, not that furry(the fur grows later in her teenager period), 10 kg dog.
What I found out from the store was that, while puppies normally make contact with the world surrounding them between the ages of 4 weeks to 3 months, my dog had been ordered and never picked up by someone. So from the age of six weeks, she had spent all of her time in a Plexiglas cage, that after a while became so small that she did not fit in there standing anymore. She spent most of that precious instinct-forming time, sitting in a cage. Which cage she shared with a beagle. So the start of her life was spent sitting, not standing, and staring at people coming by, looking at her, and than leaving.
I don't know what would have happened to her if I would not have bought her at that age. I don't even want to imagine. Sufficient to say that she was lucky enough that I was a bit insane about buying a dog. And I was more that lucky to have found her.
So, it goes like this: never give up, because there will come along somebody or something, that perhaps not even knowingly will make your day, your year, or maybe change your life for ever. It only takes the patience to wait for the one nutty enough to do that.

Next time:the first 2 days of our life together. A small preview: a lot, and I mean A LOT of poop. :)

P.S. The picture is the first picture I took of her, with my "oldy but goldie" phone.

Fiona, the mighty dog

Life can be really complicated. Or it can be really simple. It all comes down to the way you see life.
Fiona is a simple dog. Or a really special dog. It all comes down to the way you see life.
She has her own unique way of going through each day. And most of the days she's all about smiling. Yeap, dogs smile. They smile a lot. Sometimes they frown. But Fiona, oh well, I guess she only has her ears so that her smile can stop somewhere.
This is a blog about how going through life following the simple life lessons of my diva-gorgeous, child-minded, never-full, amazing dog can make things so much more simple and a whole lot more funny and positive.
It is not a blog about how to raise or how to train a dog. What it really will be about is how a dog can teach you lessons just by giving you a meaningful glance.
So, here it is: FIONA the MIGHTY DOG!