A week ago, a friend asked us about life with our new pup, Daisy. I laughingly replied I felt trapped. "I'm watching Daisy like a hawk so she'll 'potty outside,' but it's been horrible because of our muddy backyard!" I explained. Our friend's wife is a professional dog walker, and they've have had several Labs, so he understood. He smiled and replied, "Oh, yes, those puppy blues."
Of course I'd heard of baby blues. But I'd never ever heard anyone hang a name on the entrapment that accompanies a puppy's arrival. I'd gotten spoiled with our 2-year-old guy, Boomer, a reliable, laid-back Lab if there ever was one. While I knew how much work a pup requires during the first several weeks, I'd forgotten how small my world would feel during that time.
So I've been dealing with a case of puppy blues. But as the daylight hours lengthen (and Daisy's bladder capacity increases), I find the blues displaced by tremendous delight in my dogs and a renewed sense of freedom--even if it's only incremental. At least I now feel I can sneak away while Daisy's crated to rejoin the land of the living and attend book club or breakfast with a friend. Hurrah!
Have you ever experienced the "puppy blues," and if so, how did you handle them?
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