Rowan joined our house in September. At 8 weeks old she was a birthday present for me from my lovely husband. After years of mourning the loss of our previous hound, Molly, we decided that our lives could accomodate another four legs and a tail. I only work up the hill from where we live and Kevin has boundless energy. Adding an enclosed garden and an improved financial situation to the mix, it seemed like a good time.
Well, the week before we went to collect her, we discovered that I was pregnant. What previously seemed like a good idea, turned rapidly into a crisis. Should we still get her? How would we accomodate a baby in with a puppy? How on earth was I going to make it down the hill at lunch to let her out when I was pregnant? As with so many decisions, bad judgment prevailed and Rowan arrived--cute and furry and pure trouble.
To say we underestimated the work involved in puppy rearing would not fully cover the shock and horror of the day to day needs and desires of our Basset Hound. She whines almost continually when not being given attention. She gets into everything. She creates more mess than I ever thought possible.
Then there is the barking. She DOES NOT like being left alone. She howls and barks and whines for hours while we are away--even prompting anonomous complaints from the neighbours. Infuriatingly, it also only seems to be when both Kevin and I leave the house together. If I go on my own or pretend to go, she is generally fine with a few whines and barks and then goes to sleep. She has caused more fights and sleepless nights in 6 months than Kevin and I have ever had and that is with happy pregnancy hormones.
However, she is so bloody cute and loveable and tries so hard to be good. Its kind of a two steps forward, one step back situation where she seems to be getting better, but progress is slow.