Trials and tribulations

Maggie has now been in DC for all of a week and a half and, apart from a few cross-border trips from Nogales to southern Arizona, this is the first time she has ever been in the United States.  Moreover, it's the first time that she has ever lived in the United States.  And it has been quite the ordeal for her, to say the least.

She is not yet 2, but she has experienced a lot of changes in such a short lifespan.  For one thing, she has lived in 3 different countries and has therefore had to adapt to the lifestyle of a Foreign Service dog.  The smells, tastes, sounds, and the general feel of each place she has lived has, at times, been a bit overwhelming.

Maggie has also lived through a relatively long time period in which there was always someone home with her, no matter the time of day, and she could escape to the back yard to go potty at any point (the climate in Lima is so temperate that the doors opening from both the kitchen and the main living space into the walled backyard were almost always open).  Moreover, she always had her friends to play with - whether it was the gardener, Jainor; the maid, Petronila; Pookie, the cat; or Grace, the pitbull extraordinaire/pack leader. 

When Maggie moved to Mexico, the big change was the house and the loss of the gardener and maid (strangely enough, they did not want to come with us).  But I was still home all day, to pay attention to her and let her out to pee whenever she needed.  And she still had Grace and Pookie to harass to her heart's content.

But now...everything has changed.  First, there were issues getting her on the plane the day Anthony and I planned to ship her.  The stupid expletive deleted! woman behind the ticketing counter declared that the crate was too big to fit into the luggage area.  Anthony managed not to shoot her in the face and came back the following day to get her into cargo (as opposed to her flying with our friend as excess baggage - i.e. as opposed to flying her less expensively).  Although that same woman was there again, Anthony worked with someone else and Maggie got on the damn plane.  So she spent 2 whole days in-transit, more or less, locked up in her crate and trying to get to me.

When she got off the plane, she ended up in the unclaimed baggage area for at least 45 minutes because her mommy (that would be me, folks) was very, very, very late.  (Note to self: the next time a friend is helping me pick my dog up at the airport, be absolutely certain that everyone knows which airport we are going to.)  She must have been absolutely terrified.  Because here's the thing: she's a very anxious dog.  She is all fine and dandy so long as Anthony or I or Pookie or Grace is around, but minus all those factors, she's a wreck. 

On top of that, all the new sights, sounds and smells were accosting her.  Ugh.  I just can't imagine.

So, I take her out of the crate, and cuddle her all the way back to my apartment (yeah, we got lost again; but hey, that's the fun that is driving in DC).  She's tired, confused, disoriented, and now hiding behind me so my friend, Jan (a.k.a. the nice man who went to all this effort to help me pick MAGGIE-SO-DELICIOUS! up from the airport, and could use a big freakin' doggie kiss after the frustration of getting lost twice), could not touch her.  I think he was so frustrated with Maggie that he left pretty much immediately.

So that was two Saturday nights ago (and I missed such a scandalous party at Max's house for this!)...the next day I planned a meeting with the dog walker I had retained for 5 days a week.  Maggie was okay with her after a while, but still extremely tentative.  Turns out Maggie hates her because on Monday, she refused to get out of her crate to go for a walk.  Same thing on Tuesday.  So we had to say goodbye to the dog walker.  Such a shame.  Because now, Maggie has to learn how to hold her pee - for nine hours at a time.

The other things that terrify Maggie now include: construction vehicles/semis/buses, people, and other dogs.  Which is basically all there is around here. 

The plan is to keep her on a schedule.  Up at 5:30AM, out to run and pididdle, in crate for most of day, out for dog park and then dinner and relaxation until 10, 11, 12 o'clock... Slowly she is adjusting.  S. L. O. W. L. Y.  She is now able to go approximately 5 minutes at the dog park without pulling out the ol' VAMPIRE PUPPY! face because some dog is trying to smell her foof.  Maggie is also getting much better at sticking her nose right up in the wee-wah of other dogs so she can say "hello."  (More like, "Hey baby, do you come here often?") 

But like I said, things are improving.  She can also now walk around the block with her tail held high, as opposed to clenched over all her girlie bits so no one can sneak up behind her and surprise her.  I would even go so far as to say that breakfast potty time is her favorite because Mommy doesn't even make her walk on a leash to get to that back alley with the overgrown patch of weeds and grass that MAG-DELICOUS! so likes to trample.  She just races over there, with her sproingy little tail bouncing all over creation, her butt chops whistling in the wind, and her Einstein ears flopping all around her head.  Not to forget, of course, that really endearing, shit-eating grin plastered all over her face (which kind of makes her look like she dislodged the one brain cell left in her head)...

In any case, Maggie is improving every day.  And she's only had two accidents in the house (both my fault, really).  Clearly, we're learning how to make it work.  Now if only I could get her to stop shedding...