[2newpups]

The boys are now 15 weeks old. In their 7 weeks with us there have been many entertaining and cherished moments, but unfortunately at this point those pale beside the tribulations and my feelings of failure, on my way to utter despair. I had told myself that Finn's injury a bit over two weeks ago (2 broken toes on one forepaw, splinted and bandaged) was a setback, which I suppose it is. The vet insists on the Elizabethan collar to deter chewing on the bandage, but that is impractical and is pointless unless I put one on Monty too. [I actually tried that, but it was a disaster I don't even want to get into.] After cutting up socks, wrapping with medical tape, even duct tape (side note: don't ever try that, what a nightmare!), I think we may finally have found a possible solution at Californiapetpharmacy dot com - it's a waterproof sleeve/boot called "Medipaw." It arrived yesterday, and with some adjustments appears to be the answer to keep the splint dry and intact. We'll have to see how that pans out.

Other vet instructions: separate them and try to keep Finn quiet, not too strenuous play - seriously? They are puppies! Littermates for cryin out loud! Sorry, Doc, it ain't happening. I try to keep a close eye on them during the day, have to intervene/distract often when they get too wound up and to keep relative peace; at bedtime we "den" them separately. [Surprisingly, bedtime is a breeze.]

Potty training is a total FAIL. Strict feeding times, followed by some play time, then head outside to do our business. Additional frequent trips outside between meals too. Sounds great, right? Yeah, except it doesn't work and has rapidly deteriorated. Up until a week ago, my husband proclaimed success almost daily for their 6am "morning constitutional." Of course, upon return inside there's always the cleanup of last night’s "accidents" in both of their sleep areas (don't believe what they say about how dogs don't poop where they sleep – ha! Total fallacy). We told ourselves this will pass, they're just babies. Somehow the morning ritual has mysteriously fallen apart, as has every trip outside to potty: minimum 20 mins, even as long as 45, doesn't matter. At most a little piddle, and within 10 minutes of returning inside they slink off to find spots to poop (and most of the time pee again).

This morning’s episode really tore the sheet. Potty area is a 6x6’ fenced area on a cement patio. Instead of scouting the area for a “good spot,” as usual they spent potty time snuffling along the perimeter in search of any piece of grass or straw or leaf or pebble, whatever may have blown in. Anything found becomes the most prized must-have for the boys to fight over. Today it was a piece of a plastic top to a soft drink cup, which some drive-by litterbug must have tossed from his car. Finn was teasing Monty, and I quickly realized he was trying to steal something from Finn's mouth. I know better than to react startlingly, so I slowly approached, picked up Finn and sat with him in my lap, away from Monty. As I tried to gently open his mouth, Finn actually bared his teeth, growled and viciously snapped at my fingers several times before I finally extracted the object. I repeatedly said, “no bites” as we do when they play-bite, but this wasn't playing. Finn was seriously attacking. I gritted my teeth, said nothing, put him down and walked away, made a point of letting him watch me toss the “prize” into the trash. I turned my chair around and "ignored" them, as I dealt with my shock and fury.

I'm so discouraged, and my husband is now saying that one of them has to go if things don't improve soon. I can't let that happen, it’s heartbreaking even to think about. I have to find a way through this. I just don't know how.