He’s seven, and I am in love with him. We’ve had him for six years, and I don’t think I’m wrong in saying he’s amazing. I mean, seriously. He’s adorable, right?
He’s happy and sweet and he sits when he’s told, and his ears go back when he listens and he wants 100%, more than anything else in the whole wide world–even peanut butter–even his stuffed hedgehog–he wants to be good.
This dog is bizarre. He LIVES for the words “Good Dog.” Praise is EVERYTHING to him. It’s amazing. And he’s good. Not just sit, stay, rollover good…but leave a whole turkey on the coffee table and he won’t eat it good.
Cut to two weeks ago, when Mr. MacLean and I move into a new apartment. And we’re so happy! Because this new apartment is bigger and better in every way, and yes…even Baxter will like it more, because there’s OUTDOOR SPACE!
Except, he doesn’t like it more.
He hates it.
And we’ve broken him.
He’s still cute as a button. Still happy and sweet and sits when he’s told. His ears still go back when he listens and he still loves praise. But now…when we leave him…this happens:
Like, from the moment we leave to the moment we come home. 30 minutes, 2 hours, 5 hours…
We’ve hired a trainer, we’ve started making Baxter lay on the floor instead of sit on the furniture. We’ve rationed his food. We’ve been firm, stopped meeting those big brown eyes, and even stopped cuddling with him so much. And nothing.
Our vet says it could take a few weeks for him to settle in…but I’m certain our neighbors hate us, because the walls are thin and I KNOW they can hear him. And I don’t blame them. I kind of hate us.
I think we ruined our perfect dog.
And it makes me le sad.
Anyone out there know Cesar Millan? Maybe he’d come to Brooklyn to help us be better owners? No? Ok…anyone out there have a good idea to share?
I just want my puppy back.