I have firsthand knowledge of pregnancy and childbirth amnesia, but I had no idea there was something called “puppy amnesia.” You’d think after being a dog owner my entire life, never really going longer than six months without a canine pal, that I’d have some memory of the unimaginable youth of a dog.
What is it about this animal that wakes her up in the wee hours and kicks her into turbo mode, without fail, every single day at 4 am? Why is it that for an hour or two during that sleep-needed time of day, that she wants nothing more than to tear the skin from my hands and shred whatever I’m wearing to pieces? Why, at this hour, does she feel the need to bark for attention in high-pitched squeals and wake every other living being in the house? What causes her to behave as if she has a tapeworm, scratching and pawing and barking incessantly at the Rubbermaid container that holds her food? And then, how is it possible that around 6 am, as she has certainly roused everyone from their cozy beds to start the day much too early, and has ripped a tiny hole in each of the backs of their shirts, this pitifully cute puppy falls asleep, hard?
I can’t answer these questions and can only say again that I have NO memory of these days with Harley, Maggie, Sadie or Ginny. Mike assures me that we’ve experienced this all before, but at that time, there were no children to tend to, no articles to write, no snow to deal with, no emails distracting me, no inauguration to be glued to. In those days, I wasn’t already operating at sleep, energy, healthy food, time and probably water deficits. (Although I assure you my alcohol consumption was much higher!) Yes, things were different twelve years ago when rescuing a puppy from under a used car in Florida made perfect sense. The timing is more complicated now, but if there’s anything we learned from Harley, it’s that the best is yet to come. Jesse will get there, too, that I know for sure.