Poor, poor Gus. Just three months old (today) and already he's had to face the horrible realization that he isn't invincible. He cannot fly. His leg hurts. And he doesn't understand why.
If his male owner had his way, Gus would have made his first trip the E-R Vet last night. Luckily, wiser (thrifiter) heads prevailed, and instead Gus is being forced to follow his female owner's advice to take it easy.
I was visiting a friend when "the incident" happened, but as it was explained to me, Jeff had been laying on the bed with Gus on top of him. Super Pup apparently decided to launch himself off the bed, nicked his back leg on the foot rail and went down with a yelp. Chaos ensued with kids shouting and Gus whimpering. A short time later I got a phone call from Jeff saying I needed to come home.
By the time I got home, Gus was sleeping in the bathroom. He seems hesitant to start moving, but once he's in motion he has a slight limp at best. (It's his rear left leg.) Gus was more willing than usual to cuddle this morning, but other than that is his normal, feisty self.
So what else has Gus been up to during two weeks since I wrote about him last? He's now 22.5 pounds. The house training accidents are pretty rare, and when they happen, there's generally human error involved. (Such as when Mom tells AJ to take the dog outside and AJ instead chooses to continue playing Legos while Mom is in the shower. Words you don't want to hear while in the midst of shampooing your hair: "Mom, Gus just peed in the living room." UGH!)
Gus, we've discovered, is a surprisingly good traveler. He especially likes when the trips involve a Dairy Queen drive-thru.
(No, we didn't buy him his own treat - just let him lick out my sundae cup.)
Gus also got to meet my parents' dog Dudley last week.
Let's just say Gus likes Dudley far more than Dudley seems to care for Gus. I give Dudley credit - for tolerating Gus' hyperness, and for tiring him out so that he slept longer than any other night since we got him.
As mentioned in a previous blog post, Gus doesn't like swimming pools, and would much prefer to watch from the sidelines.
He's also toned down his act a bit with Sydney. He still loves to nip at her dresses, but overall they've made their peace and figured out how to play together.
The chewing never stops. If anything, he's gotten more destructive simply because his jaws are now stronger. Sydney's little Disney Princesses are now just about without a wardrobe, Gus has wrecked so many of their little rubber gowns. Playmobil palm trees, Nerf gun bullets and foam puzzle pieces all have met their doom thanks to the never-ending gnawing.
This morning I caught him chewing on the already-licked-clean metal soft catfood can. And I let him have at it. What's the worst that could happen? He could dull, or perhaps even lose some of those sharp puppy teeth.
His saving grace, besides being utterly adorable, is that more and more he's bonding with us and allowing us to see glimpses of the loyal companion he will be. Like a child learning social skills, he wants to play with us, rather than just next to us. (Now I just have to teach him that playing with me doesn't require wrapping his jaws around my wrist.)
Slowly but surely we'll get through this. We will survive the puppy stage.
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