Adventures With Makai: My New Rescue Puppy
My husband and I recently adopted a new puppy! It’s been quite the whirlwind around here as we adjust to raising a puppy again. Take a ride with me as I recount the real, raw truth of what the first month has been like; not the edited, picture-perfect social media version that we’re all inundated with, because the truth is it hasn’t been all sunshine, rainbows and puppy snuggles around here. In fact, there’s been very little snuggling and a whole lotta gnawing at our arms!
Meeting “Sinder”
Recently, we lost our 9-year-old rescue, Shiloh, unexpectedly. Unbeknownst to us and his veterinarian, he had advanced stomach cancer. What we thought was going to be a routine surgery to remove an intestinal blockage ended up being the phone call every pet parent dreads. Instead of, “Surgery went great, Shiloh is ready to be picked up,” we were told, “We’re so sorry but Shiloh has cancer and there’s nothing we can do.” We were completely unprepared for the hole in our hearts that we were left with. Our other dog, Roxi, held us together, licking up our tears and snuggling in close when we couldn’t bear to get out of bed. She too, though, was going through her own adjustment, learning to be an only dog for the first time in her life.
The house was just too empty and too quiet. We had wanted a puppy for a while, actually, but since Shiloh didn’t get along with most other dogs, we never acted on those desires. After Shi passed away, we both slowly started looking at rescues and the conversation slowly started up again. At first, I could only look at pictures and profiles of dogs in a passive way, thinking, “Oh, he’s cute,” “She sounds sweet” before exiting out of the tab and setting my phone down. For months we’d send pictures back and forth to each other, but nothing really came of it. Our hearts just weren’t ready yet.
Then, one evening, my husband sent me a screenshot of three puppies that were available at the Connecticut Humane Society. Something was different this time, as the conversation turned from, “maybe one day” to real plans to go see them. So, the next day, my husband, Roxi and I drove up to Newington, Connecticut to meet the puppies and see if one was a good fit for us.
Meeting "Sinder" at the Connecticut Humane Society
Sinder was the second puppy we met, and although the first pup was awfully cute, it wasn’t until I saw Sinder that my heart finally opened up to the possibility of adding to our family. There was just something different about this puppy. He wasn’t, nor will he ever be a replacement for Shiloh, but for the first time, my heart was expanding to make room for another. When you know you know, right?
Sinder was immediately drawn to Roxi, but Roxi wasn’t quite as sure; she was hanging back, hesitant and timid. We loved him though, and I was fairly confident that if given enough time, she’d come around. So, on August 15th, Sinder joined our family and became Makai (“towards the sea” in Hawaiian). He was roughly 11 weeks old and the only history we have is that he was born in South Carolina and was transported up to Connecticut from a rescue organization down there. He’s a pit bull mix of some sort and by the looks of his paws, he’s gonna be a big guy.
Bringing Makai home!
The first few days
When we arrived home, we came back to a house that was not prepped whatsoever for a puppy (which is the exact opposite of what I’d recommend!). We were still grieving though, and I just couldn’t bear to risk the disappointment of buying a bunch of puppy supplies and getting our hopes up in case it didn’t work out. It’s happened to me before, and I was heartbroken (though it was a huge blessing in disguise because that’s how we ended up with Shiloh, my heart dog). So, once we got home, we immediately headed to the pet store to get some essentials. The Connecticut Humane Society sent Makai home with a bag of dog food, a leash and a collar, and being a professional dog trainer, I already had a supply of treats ready to use, but we still needed a crate, a bed and some puppy enrichment toys.
We took advantage of the puppy socialization opportunity and brought Makai with us (rather than one of us staying home with him). Makai got to people watch while Dad carried him, taking in the smells and sounds of the pet store. One of my favorite ways to help puppies (especially unvaccinated puppies) safely become acclimated to new stimuli!
That night, my husband and I had plans that he had been looking forward to for a while. Before our trip to the Connecticut Humane Society, we decided that if we brought a puppy home that day, we’d cancel the plans and stay home, but I didn’t want him to miss out so I decided I’d stay home with the dogs and he should still go. After all, I’m a professional dog trainer, how hard could it be to manage both dogs on my own?
I instantly regretted my decision. I’m glad he didn’t miss out, but man that night was hard. Really, really hard. Trying to set up a crate, puppy proof a house, supervise two dogs to make sure they’re safe, especially when one is totally enamored with the other and doesn’t understand boundaries yet, and the other is trying to run away anytime the puppy is within 10 feet of her, all while making sure the puppy wasn’t getting into anything he shouldn’t, avoid potty accidents (that was an epic failure), and allow Makai to decompress and become acclimated to his new home was a lot. In fact, it was an utter disaster, and a very long, exhausting night. The next day my husband had to work all day, and I was on my own again. Luckily my mom came over to meet Makai so I was able to sneak off for 15 minutes to shower.
Life with Makai: Day one
The first couple of days were exhausting and overwhelming. Roxi was still not a fan of her new brother and wanted space, Makai was not a fan of giving Roxi space, and we were struggling with the typical puppy stuff like crate training, sleeping through the night, potty training and puppy biting. I left the Connecticut Humane Society thinking, I’m a dog trainer, I know what I’m doing and within 24 hours I felt like I was barely treading water. I was sleep deprived, I felt like I was doing everything wrong, and the house looked like a tornado ripped through it. I kept myself up at night doubting my abilities and, if I’m being completely honest, doubting my decision. What if Roxi never came around? Makai was going to be much bigger than her. If they couldn’t get along, it might not be a safe living situation. Was I equipped for this? Sure, I’ve raised puppies before and I’ve helped hundreds of clients raise their puppies, but maybe I made the wrong decision.
The next few weeks
Day three was a bit easier than days one and two, week two was a bit easier than week one and eventually, we started to settle into a routine. My confidence came back, and I realized (with the help and support of my friend and fellow dog trainer, Michelle) that I was in fact equipped with the education and experience to handle this. I was being way too hard on myself. I remind my clients all the time that puppyhood is messy (literally and figuratively). Your puppy is going to have accidents, they’re going to whine, chew things they shouldn’t, bite, and make a mess. You’re going to have good days and bad, it’s all part of their normal development and growth. So why did I expect anything different? Not to mention, Makai didn’t have the best start in life. He started out in a shelter, before spending hours in a crate on his journey to another in Connecticut. He spent his most impressionable weeks in stressful environments with no stability or predictability (no hate towards rescues! They do amazing work!). I knew when we brought him home that we’d likely need to work through some stuff (he’s still struggling with alone time). Why did I put so much pressure on myself to have the “perfect” puppy right off the bat, when I know that’s unrealistic?
Makai and Roxi
I began slowing down and with some reminders from my husband (“shouldn’t we do this? Isn’t that what you recommend to your clients?”), I began approaching the situation with practical expectations and goals and a sensible training plan. It was when I took a step back and met Makai where he was instead of where I thought people expected him to be (and what people expected of me), that we started to make progress. Makai started to become comfortable in his new home; he started to learn to potty outside (though we’ve had our fair share of accidents), he started to really engage in training sessions; he began sleeping through the night and napping on his own; he began feeling secure enough to let us walk out of view without frantically following us. We started to build our bond and trust in one another with each passing day. Oh, and Roxi has decided that she’s a fan of her brother now. Seeing her initiate play with him for the first time (probably on day six or seven) was such a relief and their bond continues to grow.
Fast Forward to Today
Even though we have a routine now, and we’ve made great strides, it’s still hard. Raising a puppy is challenging. I’d be a liar if I said I haven’t lost my patience and raised my voice or had to stop, close my eyes and take a deep breath from time to time. But then I remember that he’s literally a baby, who likely has some past trauma, and he’s just trying to figure out the world. When I’m frustrated because I’m tired and don’t want to get woken up before the sun comes up, I remind myself that he’s dealing with a full bladder that he can’t fully control yet. When I’m wishing he’d just stop biting me already, he’s probably wishing he could just get some relief from the pain of his adult teeth coming in.
I’m certainly not perfect, and there are moments where I miss the pre-Makai freedom and tranquility, but when that tired pup climbs into my lap in the evenings and nuzzles in to fall asleep, I’m honored that I can provide a safe space for him. When I feel like I must be failing him or that I’m not doing enough to meet his needs and ensure he’s developing appropriately, he shows me that he’s gaining confidence by sitting instead of fleeing when a loud truck goes by, or choosing to lie down in his crate and watch me walk out of sight instead of following me. When I think to myself, “it’ll get easier, I just need to get through the puppy stage,” his puppy eyes, puppy galloping, and puppy breath remind me not to rush it. Yes, it’s hard, and in the moment it feels like it’ll never end. But then it does. You blink and all of a sudden, your pup is an adult, and you’d give anything to rewind back to the precious puppy stage.
With wags and aloha,
Cori Tufano- CPDT-KA, FFCP, FDM, CSAT
Makai enjoying a frozen carrot