We own a two bedroom house. Well, according to the tax records it’s a three bedroom which makes me mad because I’m taxed for three bedrooms. The third bedroom is not only small with no closet, but it’s on the first floor and the other two sleeping abodes are on the second. The only person who could realistically sleep in this “bedroom” would be a small child which means they would be all alone and the first line of defense when nefarious thugs break in with intents of rape and pillage. Okay, maybe not rape but for sure pillage.

So, of course, I would not let my child sleep downstairs but that is exactly what I did with my newest dog child. Which meant she’d wake up alone and disoriented. Poor baby.

Mele came to us convinced our upstairs bathroom was her personal potty space. She is wrong and we are having quite the time convincing her of this.
We started with moving the poop outside and trying reward based training for pooping outside. Yeah, that worked really well.

Then we moved to bedtime in the downstairs kennel as Coconut got to sleep on their giant new bed with mom and dad. It started well, then came the whining and barking throughout the night. And as soon as she went outside in the morning, is 4:00 really morning?, she would dash upstairs to poop in the bathroom! So much or that, genius mom and dad.

Kennel here because dogs won’t poop where they sleep. I beg to differ. So we did the laundry and our intrepid leader at NEW PAWS suggested a much smaller kennel because. Now we have a kennel in my bedroom totally not matching my decor at all, Coconut’s bed and day two is mostly a win. Some whining last night but mo inside the house poop!

It’s a process and I tell my story to let new adopters know that every dog is different. Even if they are potty trained, and I guess pooping in the exact same place on a puppy pad is technical training, your home is different and there will be an adjustment.

My dogs play and fight like wild beasts. Sometimes it feels like they are going to fight to the death, especially when they fight under my feet. But they adore each other. I love the way they nestle into each other on the sofa so I was worried about the new kennel and bed arrangement.

I don’t have a picture because I saw it at 1:30 in the morning on bathroom trip not involving stepping in poop. I looked over and this is what I saw.
Mele was facing Coconut’s bed, curled in a ball as close to the kennel as possible without pressing against it. Coconut had switched his body around and was equally close to the kennel as he faced his sister. As if that wasn’t enough Coconut’s paw was touching the bars as if he was trying to touch Mele to let him know he was there for her.

There are days I doubt this second dog thing. It’s noisy, my hardwood floors needed refinishing anyway so I guess that waits, and the noise can be disconcerting. There’s extra food and toys and bones. But then I see how much they love each other, I see the empathy Coconut continues to show, his desire to protect his sister from bigger boy dogs who sniff around, the curled brown and white bodies, the paw on the bars.

She will figure out the potty situation and learn more about house rules. When I see them together, when I see how happy my husband is to have his own dog, though that point is still in play, I know Mele is our dog meant for all of us.