It seems hard to believe, but we’ve had Schuyler for about four weeks now. She’s a very good, very playful puppy who learns very quickly. She’s completely paper trained, and now that she’s twelve weeks old she has the go-ahead from the vet to potty train outside (now we just need the weather to cooperate). Hopefully leash training will go just as smoothly.
The kids have easily adjusted to having a puppy around. Annabel has been a big help with potty training Schuyler, which I am very thankful for. I do have to remind her sometimes that Schuyler needs to run around and play, because if Annie had her way she’d just carry her around like cuddly stuffed animal all day. Luckily for Annie, Schuyler loves to curl up and accept affection and adoration.
And then there’s James, who I have to watch very carefully lest he pick her up incorrectly or (literally) smother her with hugs. Schuyler tolerates him very well, which I think has 100% to do with the fact that James almost always has stray food on his face or shirt.
I took Schuyler to the vet yesterday for her 12-week check up. She went from 2.4 pounds to 3.7 pounds in four weeks. Coincidentally, I had a similar proportional weight gain. Holidays, man. She took all of her vaccinations like a champ, without even a single whimper.
She is very popular at the vet’s office. Yesterday a parade of people came in just to say hi, and they were taking pictures with her and everything. And of course, Schuyler eats it up because ATTENTION AND AFFECTION! She also rewards her admirers with tail wags and face kisses. A big part of her draw yesterday was her appearance. Everyone was trying to guess what kind of dog she is. Her coloring favors her Yorkie mother, but even though her father was a Maltese mix she doesn’t resemble one. Mike and I think she has some Chihuahua in her, but several people at the vet’s office (including Schuyler’s actual vet) think she looks like a miniature Corgi. I don’t think her legs are short enough for that, but I can see the similarities.
As much as Schuyler loves the kids, she has really bonded with me. She’s happiest when she’s curled up next to me, or more specifically, ON me:
She treats me like a bed, but I’m not complaining. My job hunt has been hard, so it’s been a relief to have a fuzzy warm stress reliever curled up on my chest while I search for openings. I occasionally slip and call her Rigby (James helpfully shouts, “No, Rigby died!”), but considering I still sometimes call Annabel by my friends’ names and James by my brother’s name, I’ve cut myself some slack.
As long as I’m scratching her belly or ears, I don’t think Schuyler cares what I call her.