Where’s a crystal ball when you need one?

I’ve been thinking for the past few days about what to blog about here.  I don’t know.  I guess I’m just still stuck in the frustration phase, and I already wrote about that.  Who wants to hear more “blah blah blah” about what a frustrated puppymom I am?  I know I don’t.  But I just can’t seem to get past it.

I told Tom yesterday (or maybe it was the day before yesterday… or maybe it was this morning… who can remember these things when the days just seem to run together) that if I could just somehow know that all this hard work we were doing was going to result in obedient, happy dogs, I think I would be ok.  I’m not against hard work – in fact, I’m quite familiar with it.  Without it, I would have never graduated college, never survived moving out on my own, and would have never made it through building the house we are in.  But, somewhere in the inner depths of my mind, I have this nagging fear that we are going to do all this hard work – but we are going to do it somehow very, very wrong.  And, by 3 years of age, when our dogs should be fully trained adult dogs – they will only be unhappy.  I fear that they will never truly bond to us (ah, the baggage of adopting littermates), and maybe one day they will snap and eat one of our arms off.  (I watch way too much television.)  But, seriously, I worry.

And I do have to be honest here with myself.  I mean, frankly, we have come a far, far distance since Lucy and Sally came to live with us 4 months ago.  They are still a little bratty on their walks, especially when there are so many cats, squirrels, and barking dogs to get excited about, but at least we can walk them.  This is a vast improvement, one must admit, over the days where they were trying to rip our arms off the entire way.  And, 4urpets had a recent post enumerating the words she has taught her dogs.  I made a list of the words our dogs know now, and it was longer than I had expected.  *Giving self pat on back*

But, in spite of our meager progress, I can’t shake this nagging, this deep, annoying whining about how we are really just fooling ourselves.  These are not dogs who are learning.  These are dogs who are planning.  You know, “OK.  We learn to sit.  We play her games so we can get fed until we have finalized the escape plans.  If all else fails, BITE HER.”  I know dogs don’t really think this way, but I like to think that Lucy and Sally are exceptional pups.  And I’m pretty sure that’s going to bite us right in the ass.