Sunday

I don't even know what a "normal" Sunday looks like anymore. Early spring Sundays meant, for years and years, garden clean up time. Not this year. And I have to say, though I don't miss it, I don't feel great when I visit the farmette and ignore the weeds, last year's growth, the tubs with dead annuals. I've noticed a swell of irritation as I walk among the flower beds. At no one in particular, though Ed gets to hear it since he's there. Also for many years, Sundays meant dinner prep for the young family. It still means that, but in recent months, I've skipped these more often than not. They're sick, the dog's sick, the weather is lousy, other plans -- you name it. This fall and winter, Sundays meant dog park outings. Well you know how that ended. With a bang. I don't see myself taking Millie to Prairie Morraine -- that huge, beautiful dog park that Henry loved so much. She doesn't need that much exercise and I have a slight fear that she'll be clobbered by uncontrollable big dogs. It's one thing to expose her to them in doggie daycare under the careful supervision of the staff there. It's another to let her loose in a park where any dog can be set free. Too, she tends to pick up things she shouldn't pick up. I can't even count the number of times she has come back from a walk with a food chip or a twig in her mouth. She doesn't need the freedom to pick up anything in an off-leash park. And finally, those parks do present contamination issues. Dogs with parasites. Dogs that are sick. Henry seemed impervious to all that. His immune system had been conditioned by months out on the streets. Millie is far more sensitive to such stuff -- witness her ten days of digestive issues. So, no dog parks. I have to rewrite my Sundays! But not today.

Today is ridiculously cold. At night, we'll have a deep frost -- rare in the second half of April. I'm glad that it's just a few days of this, but I surely am not motivated to do anything adventurous in this weather.

 

Millie and I do start off with what is becoming an established pattern. I get up, she waits, I get ready, then take her out of her crate and we go for our walk. It's short. Because of the weather and because she is more interested in returning home to eat than to walk a mile.

She eats, then plays. I love this wild moment when she is deeply happy. Wild, with total zoomie abandon. Big dog zoomies are... frightening, but Millie is just so darn cute as she runs from one room to the next. (She's way too fast for me to use my camera on her.)

I fix my own meal, take her out quickly again and settle in for my own quiet breakfast. As always, she waits at my feet for me to be done.  

(farmette daffodils)

And right after, we both exhale on the couch.

My newest Sunday activity is to take Millie to puppies agility class. Today is the second of five (or is it six?) classes. 

I have to smile -- it surely is a "be careful what you wish for" situation. I wanted a social pup. One who loves people, other dogs. Millie goes completely overboard on her enthusiasm, not for the class, but for the people who run it, and the dogs who participate. 

Since she is not very treat motivated, getting her to follow my treat filled hand is impossible! Some of the dog parents are dead serious about the class and they remind their pups that this isn't play time, it's time to learn. But when we're in the holding pen waiting our turn, Millie wants to romp, jump, roll with them. And when it's her term to do the jumps, climbs, tunnels, she takes her time, sometimes taking a long pause right in the middle of an exercise. 

I would say that she is the least interested in performing well of all dogs there and perhaps all dogs that have ever taken the agility class! 

 

 

 

She is five months old today and she has lived with me for two weeks and a day. It's not really surprising that she doesn't come when called, doesn't leap on command, doesn't climb out of the tunnel when asked to do so. She is one goofy girl. The class clown, without knowing that she is indeed the class clown.

At home, I just finished an article in the NYTimes, (gifted for you here) titled  In Defense of Dumb Dogs. I thought of some of the dog parents in class today who seemed so hell bent on having their dogs do well. In the article, the author noted that most dog owners think their pooch is above average in intelligence. And I think doodle parents truly do believe their dog is over and beyond intelligent. One reason for mixing retrievers (or other breeds) with poodles is to ostensibly pick up on the poodle intelligence. 

It made me think about Millie: do I care if she is smart or not so smart? Henry was very intelligent and oh so hard to keep busy and stimulated. Perhaps I care that Millie master potty training totally and soon. That she knows I'm her human and will protect her. That she is surrounded by friends. The rest? Nah... She can be joyful ,and bark at her reflection in the window at night, and sit in the agility tunnel all she wants. I don't care who is watching and laughing! 

Oh, but I love that girl!

 

In the evening the young family does come over today. I'm told the kids can't wait -- not to have our meal together, not to play here, not to see me, but to see Millie. The dog who lives for the moment! And she is so happy to see them, to play with them...

 

 

 

She'll let them carry her, even little Sandpiper.

And Goose? Well, I think he misses the big guys. He knows his 100plus pound body could crush the little girl.

So he leaves her alone and finds a comfy spot on the couch.

(dinner)

And where is Ed? The guy has become a pickle ball fanatic. He plays with seniors at the senior center, he plays outside on the courts with the "way younger" set. When he's done for the day, he collapses. I believe he's trying to get past the moderate -intermediate stage. The seniors are not quite intermediate enough, the "way younger" set is a bit past the intermediate stage. We'll see if they can teach that old dog even better tricks! 

In the evening, Millie rests. I should think she needs to recover. It's been a full Sunday.

with so much love... 

 

Saturday

The storms came, the storms left. Most of us had a perfectly ordinary evening. Lights stayed on. Pounding rain did not flood our basements. Trees fell on roads and rail tracks, but not on houses nearby. The tornado passed by to the south, to the north, leaving us alone. I had just one tense moment as Millie woke from an evening nap and clearly needed to go out, just as one storm cell was exploding over us. I placed her on the grass just outside the garage and said a firm "go NOW!" and she did. Phew!

This morning, the cold air swept in. Time for warm jackets again. You can complain and shiver and wish for a better forecast, but honestly, dealing with a cold spell is easier than dealing with tornado warnings blasting on your TV screen all evening long.

Millie had a good night and seems to be recovering nicely from her digestive issues. We walk, we eat breakfast.

 

She naps. But it's just as she's settling in for her couch nap next to me that I notice something about her. The little girl's jaw is chattering. What the heck?

I look this up on the internet. She appears to be experiencing an Episodic Mandibular Tremor. I take a video clip and send it to my vet. 

What causes it? With what consequences? 

These are big questions for which I do not have answers. I'm hoping for "we don't know and don't care" and "none." More vet conversations. Because I haven't spend enough time in the vet's office! Good thing the girl likes it there. She thinks they're all her friends. (Vet's advice -- keep an eye on it and don't worry.)

Millie, you are a medical handful!

("who, me?") 

Playtime: she loves to climb into the toy basket. Funny pup!

 

 

 

The afternoon is an interesting one -- for me, for Millie too. I have her booked for a grooming. She really needs a haircut. Much as I may admire the shaggy dog look, it's difficult to keep her unmatted and sanitary. 

The place I picked is just a short drive away (in McFarland). I like what people wrote in the reviews, and I also like the fact that they go slow. The pups stay with them a full four hours and when they are not being bathed or dried or trimmed, they play with each other. 

I asked for a full doodle cut, figuring it would be easier that way. And, too, I like short haircuts on dogs! They warned me that at her age, she may not have the patience for the whole trim. That she may require a couple of puppy cuts first, before they set the clippers on her full body. 

 

While she is being attended to, I drive down toward the farmette, along rural roads that are so familiar! We have gone this way dozens of times, most trips for me being to the nearby Kopke's Greenhouses. I know that they open for the season today and so I stop by.

A blast of color! 

I am not doing tub plantings this year, nor am I picking up baskets of blooms for the farmhouse porch. Ed doesn't want to bother with the maintenance they require. But he did agree to a purchase of a basket or two for my new home (first Sally's then Steffi's). A birthday present! I pick a pansy one today since I know we are still in a cool spell: pansies dont mind that, but other annuals aren't as forgiving.

To the farmette then, to dig up a rose bush. I want it for Steffi's yard -- it's a total waste at its current location --  seen only by the kids when they walk the flower field path. I also purchased a lilac bush to plant in the Steffi yard. The digging up of the rose is hard enough, but the digging of holes at Steffi's is a real challenge. New developments are notorious in this regard: the houses are build on rocky clay soil. They throw an inch of dirt on top and leave you to it. Most people dont bother planting much in this horrible soil, preferring to just put down sod and get into a mowing routine. I am not most people. Lawns are not my idea of outdoor bliss. 

I don't know if I waited too late in the season  to transplant the rose. I hope not. In putting it in, I felt so much older than when I had first planted the farmette flower fields! Tough digging didn't used to bother me. Now, I was extremely glad to be done with it!  

In between the digging, Ed and I take a coffee pause at Tati's. Just long enough to luxuriate in a break from minding something or someone. 

And speaking of minding someone, by 4, Millie is done and ready for my pick up. She looks like a different dog!

I was always amused when they made my poodle (back in Poland, when I took my dog for a trim) look like a poodle. I preferred him curly and wild. With Millie, I'm more amused. I could do without the fragrance (is it the shampoo?), but otherwise, it's nice to see her tidied up a bit. 

 

In the evening Ed stops by for supper and a movie.  Half an hour of digging and I'm exhausted! It's good to sit back on the couch with him. And her!

with so much love... 

one more time

Warm morning, wild afternoon and evening. Once again we know it's coming. Right when kids will be leaving schools, workers will be returning home. Hail, wind, possible tornadoes. Just in case I did not already feel it to be a crazy week, what with Millie sick, some of the young family sick, we are definitely ending it all with one massive bang. On the upside, we are ending it! The week of floods, damaging storms, crazy swings in temperatures ends today. We'll be dealing with other weather issues -- a deep freeze possible on Sunday! Being a bit of a weather nut in general, I haven't much credibility with my family when I warn them of impending weather hazards, but this time, if anything, I understated the threats. Can't wait for it to be behind us.

I also cannot wait for Millie's digestive system to settle down. She is better. Much better. She slept the night and ate some food this morning. But she is far from recovered. I already have had two chas with the vet's office and they will be calling me again to monitor her progress. 

Millie and I did have a lovely morning walk. Not too far -- the girl hasn't much strength in her right now, but it was early and the sun was poking through a morning mist and the grass sparkled with dew. Really sparkled. A million tiny jewels all around us! The pup's face and paws got wet from it and she looked positively charming with her damp strands of hair around her snout.

 

 

 

After her light breakfast, she settled at my feet while I ate mine. With a special candle adding a glow of hope (it's the one I bought from the shop by the Luxembourg Gardens).

And then it's couch time for the both of us. 

Millie is a tired girl. She wakes up, I give her a second small meal, I walk her...

 

 

 

... she sleeps. That's her pattern for today. Me, I was supposed to pick up Snowdrop, but the nasty weather is attacking us just at her pick up time so I have to leave it to her parents to figure that one out. They live five minutes away from her school. I live a good 20. 

And so Millie and I wait for the storms to hit us. Once again, I'm posting early, because with these storms, the electricity is suddenly an iffy thing.

Let's get the weekend onto a peaceful track already! Phew!

with so much love... 

Millie mess

Another evening storm, more hail damage, not too serious in our part of town. And no, we are not done yet. More to come, tomorrow.

This morning would have been a brilliant one -- partly cloudy. lovely mild temperatures, perfect for outdoor anything. Except this is not how our morning unfolded.

Millie was sick during the night. I had to take her outside and clean up her crate. During our nocturnal stroll, we heard the bark of a coyote. Do they go after small pups if they are with their humans? This I do not know. In any case, our walk was not long. 

In the morning, I see that she has been sick again. More clean up, a stroll outside, no breakfast for her -- she's not eating.

I do my own, by myself. She's resting on the couch.

I can surely tell when a dog is sick and Millie is most definitely sick. But with what? Back to the clinic we go. And yes, she is dehydrated. And feverish. They attend to that and give her some anti nausea meds and suggest some baby food which she does manage to lick up some at the clinic. At home, she just wants to rest. They call and ask for some samples. We drive back to deliver those. And again, at home, she rests. Ed comes over for a brief visit (and helps me install a carrier on my bike). Millie rests.

(On the upside, she is easy to comb today!)

 

 

When I was at the vet's, I asked -- do we want to talk about how often this pup urinates? She said -- yes, but perhaps on another visit as it is unrelated to her problem now.

I have to marvel at how many "problems" I bring to this clinic. So many healthy, happy dogs out there. Mine is high on the happiness scale, but the health issues have been with her from day one. Maybe, just maybe it's all transitional and she'll bounce back like the little kangaroo that she is.

 

 

 

I take her with me to pick up the kids, grateful that I have a luxurious car seat in the back for her. She'll have been using it a lot today!

At Sparrow's house, I keep her on my lap. Not that she asks to go anywhere at all. She sleeps. And then we go for Snowdrop. I tell the kids to be gentle with her today, but then, they're always gentle with her. And adoring...

I've kept the owner of Millie's mommy informed about her progress and he has been "sick with worry" about her. I guess if she were with some stranger, under the care of unknown to me clinic, I'd be mightily concerned as well. And indeed, at night, when I found her in her various puddles, I was stressed. But, on this warm spring day, with the care that she is receiving, I'm totally convinced that she'll pull through just fine.

Hey, no storms tonight! Tomorrow, on the other hand...

with so much love...  

wild

Like a careening train, without functional brakes. That's this week for you. The weather is setting the course for everyone in south central Wisconsin. Yesterday, afternoon and evening activities were cancelled and with good reason. Pictures of baseball sized hail flooded the internet. A tornado warning came on at 5. People were prepared. A few roofs came off churches and homes, a bunch of trees fell, some car windows were shattered, but that's the extent of it. Still, we're bracing for the third round today. Warm, muggy, followed by wild and crazy.

Millie was upset at bedtime last night. I dont know why. She went into the crate willingly, but then cried for a handful of minutes. I took her out, snuggled her, then tried again. Eventually she settled, but I did wonder what upset her. The storms had long passed.

This morning, she was the epitome of patience as I went through my morning wake up routines. We went out, went in, she ate, I ate, with her again at my feet.

Her digestion is not good yet, nor is she potty trained. The potty accidents are not a surprise. Tiny dogs, tiny bladders. But she does require vigilant oversight. Her accidents are also tiny and you can easily miss them if you let her out of your sight. 

And there's another reason why keeping my eyes on her is important: she can be deliberately naughty. Deliberately go to the kid bookshelf and go after the books she knows I dont want her to chew. Deliberately then go to the living room and nibble at the end of the coffee table -- another known no-no. And then onto the couch where she goes after the pillow corner. This is just wilful impishness. She loves her toys and has them scattered everywhere, but this morning, she is letting loose her wild side.

Sweet girl! 

I was going to do some outdoor work today, with Millie of course, but the weather hasn't yet settled so she and I are taking each hour as it comes.

For me, it means catching up on news beyond our own awful happenings in this country. For example, there's Paris: did you you know that beginning this month, the city has a new mayor? Emmanuel Gregoire, another socialist, stands behind a progressive and environmentally friendly agenda (think affordable housing, fewer AirBnBs, more green spaces, and biking to work -- as he himself did on the first day in office). Gregoire is outspoken in his condemnation of sexual violence, having himself been a victim of sexual assault as a child (during extracurricular activities). He lives with his partner and five children -- one from his previous relationship, two with his current one, and two from her previous relationship. His blended family life "fills him with joy." By all reports, they are a tight-knit family, made more so by his own personal tragedy -- his brother committed suicide last year. This weighs heavily on Gregoire and he is committed to not distancing himself from his own family life, liking best a Friday night of pizza and cartoons on TV over more formal events.

I read all this with hope. People choosing an empathetic, concerned, extremely hardworking leader. It can be done! People expressing antipathy toward self-serving strongmen. It can be done! I love Paris and I am happy for my city of choice. But I also want to take from this that message of possibility. They can do it. So can we. 

Here's another casual news story that grabbed my attention: a listing of small spas opening (or reopening) in the last year or two. I love spa retreats (the few that I have visited in my life), but have given up on them ever since embarking on my wild dog adventure (can't pay for it all!), so now I am left with simply reading about them and getting some vicarious satisfaction from learning about thermal pools, cleansing scrubs and calming potions ("macerated rose hips and fermented nasturtium flowers"??). It's not as if I could not replicate some of this at home. Well, maybe not the thermal waters and I have great doubts about fermenting nasturtium flowers.

When I'm not reading, I'm attending to Millie. Grooming is a big item on each day's agenda. She doesn't like being brushed (who can blame her... all that fur!) so today, with some degree of skepticism, I tried the comb. These are all doodle tools, so I know I'm not starting her off on something weird and unpleasant. And to my surprise, the comb is much easier on her than the brush. We breeze through this ritual! And of course, five minutes later, she looks a rat's nest again. But without matted clumps -- the enemy of the doodle coat.

I take her out on a longer walk. I am always hopeful we'll meet up with some strangers. It seemed to me that when I walked Henry or Sadey, I couldn't avoid them -- they came out of nowhere. But with Millie, our encounters have been rare. Today she sniffed butts with one large dog. Better than nothing!

In the later afternoon, I go to the farmette. I have some foods for Ed and of course, Millie wants a hike through all these interesting spaces.

 

 

 

(Pancake keeps an eye on her) 

(Our beautiful plum, a tree that has given us not one edible fruit, is in full bloom... Though doing a timed self-release was a challenge!)

 

 

And then it's back to running errands. To the vet's (again!) for some new prescription dog food to try. And to the Edge. I'm signing away (finally) my apartment there. 

I bring Millie into the office of these very friendly dog people. I watch her wag and greet everyone and I can't help but feel a twinge of sadness. Henry could never quite relax enough with them, though he tried. Tentatively. Sometimes. My little girl, on the other hand, had no reservations. She even climbed all over a visiting dog there. A huge visiting dog. Sigh... The Edge is packed with memories for me. Beautiful ones. Except for one: the elevator.

At home again, Millie and I settle in to wait for this third round of storms. I'll post early. Yesterday the electricity flickered. Who knows what tonight will bring.

with so much love... 

 

some storm!

To my knowledge, no one called it a tornado. But you could have fooled me! Just after midnight, the winds came with the flashes of lightening. You know how they say that a tornado sounds like a train barreling through a tunnel? Exactly that. I listened for the sirens, but none went off and still, I wondered if I should take puppy down to the basement with me. Things were crashing outside. Shouldn't I take precautions?

In the end, it ended as quickly as it began and we stayed put. I was happy to note that Millie did not howl mournfully during the 15 minute spell of terror. She gave one light woof, shifted position, and went back to sleep. As did I. Eventually.

And today we're back to the same pattern -- unreal temperatures during the day. Summer hot. And storms predicted for later in the day. 

I must say, it is very pleasant walking the girl in this warm weather. We walked a few blocks to survey the damage. The new construction across the road had some flooding and scattered timber. Porch furniture was  carried off into neighboring yards. They say trees were uprooted, but not in my neighborhood of no trees! Thankfully that's as serious as it got. What a relief. Cross fingers for tonight.

At home, breakfast, rest, and play. Not necessarily in that order.

Millie is so spirited! I wish I could feed her a proper balanced diet of higher protein food, but at this point, I'm still stuck with giving her vet prescribed bland wet foods. She has not had a healthy tummy since the day I got her, but it's getting better. I am hopeful! 

 

 

I drop Millie off at doggie daycare at noon. I need to grocery shop and then go pick up the kids. Another one of those days where I drive from one place to the next. She's better off playing with pups that staying home in a crate.  I am very happy about my girl's enthusiasm now for puppy play. As I drop her off, I see her run enthusiastically to Julie, the same dog whispering person who was so beloved by Henry. I've never seen someone connect to dogs so intensely. I leave Millie wagging away.

 

Kid pick up is a little different. First of all, note the shorts!

It's that kind of a day. High of 80F/27C. But two of the members in his household are sick now, so I am in no hurry to spend the 45 minutes we have before Snowdrop's pick up in that setting. I take him to Grace Cafe. I know it's one of his favorites, if only because of the size of the croissants!

Snowdrop pickup, then onto Millie. She is still young enough to be pretty tired after even just four hours at the daycare. (Henry, Sadey and Goose routinely spent 8 hours there). Still, the kids are always so thrilled to see her... 

 (nose to nose)

 

... and she reciprocates with total calm and a happy smile. It looks like a smile! 

We do not go to Sally's House. The kids are disappointed, but they get it. Everyone at school has been talking about the storms. No one wants to be out on the road when they push through our region. And so I take them home. Millie and I just manage to pull into our garage before the rain comes down. No hail yet, no strong winds at the moment, but the sirens are going strong, so tornadoes are expected in our county. I'll let you know tomorrow if we made it unscathed!

with so much love... 

 

in the heat of April

A perfect morning for breakfast outside, on the porch. Theoretically. It's warm -- in the 70sF (mid 20sC). The grass is greening, trees are budding. And yet, I eat inside and I'm more than okay with that. I have daffodils from the farmette flower fields. A contained beauty on the micro scale.

I've said this before --the porch at Sally's House is miserable. The worst views imaginable. Trees are budding? What trees? I don't see any trees. Construction mud, dirt and noise. Basically, it has zero appeal. Do I miss the farmhouse porch? Again, at some level yes. But I know, too, that after winter, after the seasonal shifts, the rains, the winds, the cats -- the place is dirty, really dirty. A spring refresh is most definitely in order. Dead annuals in containers remain untouched. Bugs that have cycled through their life spans litter the place. Cobwebs by the glass ceiling haven't been touched in years. I know the glass panes there need a good wash. Someone should climb up on the roof with a hose and a mop and hope that they won't slip on the mossy wood strips holding down the panels, only to come crashing down, either on the glass or to the ground below. And the view from the porch? Well, the screen is greening with micro algae. You need to wash it down with vinegar, but that is one huge job, considering the height of the panels What about the gardens beyond? Yes, pretty now, with the daffodils reaching full bloom. But, they are also one big reminder that there's work to be done there. Lots of it. And I haven't done it. 

For many years, I had this vision and I used every free hour to get close to it. A clean space with warm breezes, the song of birds, the scent of flowers, all in the early morning light. A moment of breakfast bliss. I scrubbed, weeded, planted, wiped, washed. And then I'd take my fruits, granola, maybe a croissant, along iwth that milky coffee onto a clean tablecloth, Ed would join me, and truly I felt that there could be no greater contentment than having our day start in this way. Now? I no longer think that the work is worth it. There is too much of it. I knew that at some point I would lose the race to get it done. That spring would not offer enough warm sunny days, enough free hours, enough stamina to gain control over the porch and the flower fields. What I didn't know is that I would make the decision to abruptly stop. I thought it would all slowly fade. That I'd let go a little at a time. But has that ever been the way I do things in life? 

 

My little girl is learning the ropes. She now lets me take a shower before she lets loose with her announcement that she really has to go.  We walk a longer bit, and then we both settle down to breakfast. As always, she is at my feet, then on the couch with me.

I have a lot to fit into the day. My monthly cleaning service is here this morning to take the construction dust out of the house and to give it a quick go-over. A luxury that I finally accepted as a necessity last fall if I dont want my home to get to the state where I lose control over the order that I love, inside and out. So, pup and I need to disappear for a while. 

We first go to the state revenue building to deliver my state tax forms. I know I can mail in the forms. But the Department of Revenue is even closer to me than the post office and it is free and interesting! I take Millie in with me. Not sure it's allowed, but no one stops me. I put in my name and then wait a handful of minutes to be called. There are three pairs before me and though it is now standard protocol to take out your phone and surf while waiting, I find it much more fun to sit and listen. It reminds me of the days when I wanted to do participant observation research as a sociologist. You learn so much just by blending into the setting and listening to the exchanges. Two women who sell things at the farmers market and haven't a clue as to how to file sales taxes. Two guys -- a dad and his grown son -- needing information about special forms. Really, I could spend many hours just sitting here, with Millie snuggled closely to me. My support animal!

From there we go to the farmette for a walk along farmette fields. It's so beautiful now, at the cusp of the growing season.

(virginia bluebells, daffodils and Millie) 

 

 

 (shed Friendly, watching her every step)

 

 

(to roll around in the grasses: bliss...) 

 

 

 (Gorgeous, did you call me? Where are you?)

 

 

 

 

 

And then I take Millie to daycare for a 4-hour puppy socialization period. I'm told she branches out now, playing with fellow pups, albeit still cautiously.

While she is testing the waters of puppy play, I go back to the dermatology clinic, to the doc who sliced up my cheek in the late fall. That huge scar is looking splendid! I volunteered to be part of her study and so she is checking her handiwork. 

And from there, to Sparrow's school, then home with him, then to Snowdrop's school, then to Millie's daycare. I have a whole system in place!

(they love holding her...)

 

 

(playing with her, walking her...)

 

In the evening, Ed comes over to help assemble a bench. For Steffi's House. I'm pretty sure he thinks buying a bench is up there with other ridiculous purchases I have made, but he has never refused to be the assembly person for me. We eat a light supper, he returns to feed farmette animals. 

Me, I watch Millie as she tries to make sense of her reflection in the patio doors. She runs, the image runs. She barks at it, and yet it doesn't bark back. It's enormously funny puppy play. And yes, she does get her wildest zoomies just before bedtime. It's when she has most of her accidents. I can't see how I can avoid it: no matter how many times I'll take her out, after a good sprint, she'll surprise me with another unfortunate potty event. In our braggy chat during the agility training class, we exchanged stories about our pups. The doodles her age were completely housebroken. Mine was the most difficult to potty train. This is the trade off -- you get an older pup, she'll come with whatever habits she had in her early months. When you adopt a dog you're almost always told that she is either entirely or mostly housebroken. No one wants to go through this period where they're "learning." Millie is much much better than in her first days with me. But she is still far from being reliable. Except at night. Knock on wood! Come on, Millie, let's go upstairs! 

With so much love...