Thursday
Move in day for my newly adopted dog, Freddie Mercury, was not smooth, but it was memorable. I had one of those moments of thinking, “Oh man, this is really happening,” and felt like the biggest failure imaginable. Long story short — he spent the first two hours as my dog running loose around the neighborhood after pulling out of his collar the very moment I opened the front door to let him in. Luckily for me, his foster mom was close enough to turn around and come back to walk the neighborhood. Freddie knew her when he saw her and we got him back. He spent the rest of the day sleeping in his crate, the only place in his world that felt relatively safe.
Friday
It had been a day and a night, and all Freddie wanted to do was lie still and stay safe. He took the bold step of hopping out of his crate and lying on the love seat in the living room, which has since become his home base. I’d take him outside to go to the bathroom, but he hadn’t eaten or drank much yet, so he didn’t have much interest or need. He would eat if I put a small handful of his food on the cushion in front of him, and finally started to drink when I’d swish my finger in his water bowl and wipe it on the outside of his mouth so he’d lick it off. The day before I felt like a failure after he ran off. Friday I felt like a complete load as I did nothing but sit on the adjacent couch and watch TV. After awhile I realized that wasn’t true though, because I was helping him get used to having me around and feeling safe in his new house.
My mother stopped by to see him in the afternoon. She was wearing some scented lotion that got him interested, but only enough to get him standing and sniffing in her direction.
Saturday
I woke to find him lying on the corner of my bed, which warmed my heart some. We walked around one end of the neighborhood so he could sniff his new surroundings (in a harness this time), but he still didn’t go to the bathroom. I was growing concerned about this since even though he hadn’t eaten or drank much since moving in, and that seemed like a long time. I only left the house to get some dinner and give him a chance to see that sometimes I’d be leaving the house and he’d be in his crate when that happened. I turned the radio on for him before I left, because who wouldn’t like to be taking a nap in a nice cool house with the radio on? When he ate all of his dinner that night, he finally took a big drink.
Sunday
I woke to find him lying on the bed up by my pillows this time, and found two messes on the bedroom floor; he hadn’t taken much water yet, but he was NOT dehydrated. I was so relieved he finally went that I didn’t even care, and just happily wheeled out the carpet shampooer and got to work.
During the day he walked out into the kitchen on his own when he began to recognize the sound of my opening a bag of treats. He eventually came out to his food and water dish, though he’d only eat or drink if I was sitting at the dining room table where he could keep an eye on me.
My dad came over to see him in the afternoon. Since he wasn’t wearing any scented lotion, Freddie decided to observe him from the safety and comfort of his crate for the few minutes of the visit. As soon as my dad got up and walked out the front door, Freddie hopped back up to the love seat. The best part of the day was when he started wagging his tail for the first time.
Monday
We were going on a couple days of indoor accidents, which wasn't ideal, but I knew that could be a part of bringing home a rescue. Freddie had a fenced yard at his foster home so he wasn’t used to being outside on a leash, at least not regularly. He was getting better at it as we took time to wander around the yard and the close end of the neighborhood, and the areas he returned to for sniffing became more familiar.
Tuesday
We finally got him to pee outside when my mom stopped over with Shamus and Butch in the car. Freddie stayed inside while the other two sniffed the yard and peed a little. Five minutes later Freddie was outside and found their scent, and finally took his first big outdoor pee. I sighed in tremendous relief. Later that evening he migrated over from the love seat to share the couch with me.
Wednesday
His seventh day in his new home, bringing us to the end of Week One. I set up an appointment at the same vet my sister brings her dogs to see. I was feeling I had spent too much time around the house with him and had to get him used to more time when I wasn’t around, so I turned the radio back on and went to a movie. It wasn’t great, and I was anxious to see how he would be doing when I got home. I walked in the house and called out to him. He was still secured in his crate, lying curled up in the big soft blanket that came with him from his adoption agency. He tentatively began to bounce his head when he saw me, then wagged his tail.
Thursday
It was an adventurous day for both of us since it was our first trip to the vet. He anxiously shed while we were there but didn’t even flinch when he got his nails clipped. He pooped in the lobby (twice) as we waited for the paperwork, and panted nervously during the ride home. Once we got back and I convinced him to walk inside from the garage, he recognized the house immediately. His ears perked up, he zoomed around the rooms he knew best, he grabbed a quick drink then jumped back to his love seat home base. I sat down on the couch. After a few minutes he hopped over to sit beside me, then lied down on his side and nudged my hand until I scratched his tummy. After a few minutes of that, he closed his eyes.
It had taken him nearly two years to get there, but he was finally home.
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