Joy, the puppy who was brought into my home to lift the spirits of my grievning dog, is now learning how to be my dog.
My sons spent most of the time with her and she learned to play and she thrived. I made sure she was fed and watered and asked if she’d been taken out? That’s was most of my interactions with Joy.
She became stuck here with me on September 20. This was her reaction:
This broke my heart. Did she truly think she had been abandoned and everyone who loved her had moved on. Ahem . . . hey, girl, have you ever noticed ME?
Joy has always loved to chase balls and bring them back to whomever threw them. After a few hours of looking at this behavior, I found some of her tennis balls and began to bounce them on the floor close to her. She got up, took them back to her spot by the door and laid back down.
Eventually she had all her balls in her grieving spot.
Then I began to take my toe and roll a ball away from her. She’d get up to get it and then go lie back down.
I could get her to move, if I’d start to open the door she was lying against.
She had little interest in anything.
Eventually she had to go out and I went with her. I love being outside. She wasn’t that fond of it. However, I talked to her and showed her things in the yard.
I fed her. When my son was here, she ate more people food, I suspect, than dog food.
Now she was getting mostly dog food. One day I boiled chicken and cooked rice and she had some chicken and rice, which is something my vet recommends, especially for my old dog.
I sat in the floor with her and talked to her.
It has taken time. Now she is back to wagging her tail and being happy just to be alive.
Grief can suck the life right out of you. I don’t know if she will continue to be bonded with me so strongly when my son returns, but for now, she is happy being my dog.
My other son was here the other day. She ran to greet him when he came in, but she surprisingly ran back to me and leaned up against me while wagging her tail. I took that as a good sign.