04/26/2023
Tomorrow marks two weeks since we brought Billy home.
Every morning, I journal about the previous day’s training sessions, remedial socialization outings, and general observations. Then, I set all those expectations aside and start our day with fresh eyes and an open mind. The central question that drives every activity is, “Who are you today, Billy?”
You might be thinking, “But two weeks is a long time! You must have a sense of who he is by now!”
There’s a good reason I don’t. It’s because Billy’s hierarchy of needs is still settling. There are few things more disruptive to a dog’s life than rehoming via the shelter system. Billy was plucked out of the shelter by a rescue in Flordia. He endured a grueling drive all the way up to Alexandria, VA. He was with that second rescue for just over a week before he came home to us.
The repeated upheavals to the bottom three layers of his pyramid have left cracks and fissures in his wellbeing. They’ll smooth out and heal up with time and predictability, but the greatest gift I can give him in the meantime is non-judgement.
Right now, I’m giving him space to figure things out in safe and low-stakes environments that are set up to help him succeed. My helicopter parenting instincts are in full force, and I’m protecting Billy’s budding optimism about life.
Of course, I want to people-please and invite friends over to meet him. Of course, I want to take him out for pup cups and show him off downtown. But all those activities are for me—not for him.
Right now, Billy’s happy place is breakfast, a short nap to digest, a small adventure with mom, an afternoon nap, a handful of intriguing training sessions, dinner, and a warm bed. And until his pyramid is actually pyramid-shaped again, he’s in the driver’s seat. We’ll get to my fanciful ideas later.