Adventures with Wheatly: The First 36 Hours

Ever since our beloved Ostertag died a couple years ago, the girls have been wanting another dog. So, now that our long-impending move is a done deal and we are somewhat settled, we took a trip to the Humane Society to see what we could see.

And look at what we found. Wheatly. A thirty-one pound terrier mix that the woman who runs the shelter found running around the area there on her way to work about a week ago. They estimate he's about two years old, based on his teeth. No tag, no microchip. The five day waiting period for an owner to claim him came and went. So after they fixed him Monday morning, we got to bring him home Monday evening and call him our own.

The adventure started while bringing him home. I don't know if it was the leftover grogginess from his surgery or what, but this boy does not seem to like car rides.  He shivered and whined the whole way -- and with traffic at rush hour, it was a long drive.  I felt so sorry for the poor guy.

Once home, he calmed down some. Ate a good amount of food (they said he hadn't eaten because of the surgery), drank a little, wandered around everywhere exploring. Did his business outside (and a little in the kitchen). Whined off and on still.  But he eventually just collapsed from exhaustion and fell asleep, so we put him in his bed in the laundry room.

About 12:45, I heard him yelp; I listened to see if he needed something, but he was quiet again, so I started to doze off. Until he yelped again 15 minutes later. And we spent a couple hours in that fun routine until he apparently lost interest and fell asleep.

Yesterday morning, he was a different puppy. Lively, energetic, still a bit of a whine in his voice. But the whine disappeared as the day went on. With one daughter home sick from school and me having a lot of computer work to get done, it was kind of lethargic around here, and he eventually chilled out and matched our lethargy. But he hardly left our sides, and by dinnertime, he was dancing with us, and we were seriously in love with this boy.

Hubby came home from his business trip about bedtime to meet the dog . . . and then it was time to start a bedtime routine. This is the part I had been dreading. We put his bed in the laundry room, put a treat in it to entice him (which he would have none of), and then closed the door and left him.  He whined. He pawed the door. And then he starting barking like a mad dog. "Well, it's good to hear that he can bark," hubby said.


And he whined and barked and on and on.  My youngest came down upset, and we assured her that he was okay, this is part of the process -- welcome to parenting. Eventually, hubby and I each took an Ambien and went to sleep.

Until the youngest woke us up at 2am. She heard a loud noise in the laundry room that scared her and she went to check on Wheatly. And here's what we found. Wow. I guess this mutt does not like to sleep alone. Who knew such a seemingly mellow dog had this kind of destruction in him?

So, he has his first vet appointment today, and we are getting a crate. Monday night, I was already thinking we needed a crate for him.  Time to follow my instinct.

But he's still so darn cute . . . !