Molly, our new puppy

Molly posing on the grass

Molly posing on the grass

Molly has a snooze with my granddaughter, Frieda.

Molly has a snooze with my granddaughter, Frieda.

I wrote in December in this blog that we eventually had to have our almost-20-year old Yorkshire terrier put to sleep. Until Sunday past we were without a dog, the first time for many years. It was not the same coming home without a welcoming bundle of fur greeting us and we had been looking for a new dog, though without rushing into the purchase of one that might not suit. We wanted a small to medium dog, preferably one that didn’t cast hairs, and one that would not be too likely to kill my ducks.

We settled eventually on a Shipoo, which is a cross between a Shitzhu and a poodle. We saw the litter some weeks ago and had the pick of the bitch puppies in the litter. One that rather looked like a panda took our fancy and we settled on her. We now just had to wait till she was old enough to collect.

The difficulty in picking a pup at such a young age (four weeks old in our case) is that its character has not developed sufficiently to show that it is a confidant dog, and not one that runs away from every noise or movement.  We have been lucky with Molly in that she seems super-confident, much more so than any other dog we have had at that age. She settles down for the night in the cage we bought to keep her from harm if we were not watching her, and there is not a squeak until morning.

So far she is not house-trained, though she does her business almost immediately I take her out to the garden. She has accidents in the kitchen but a spoonful of piddle on a tiled kitchen floor is easily cleaned up. She already has given warnings that she needs out; warnings I’ve sometimes not recognised or to which I have not reacted in time, but that is my fault.

Most of the family have been here over the past week and Molly has taken all the extra noise and large feet in her stride. The house is quiet again until the next visitors arrive at the beginning of next week but the extra folks and noise in the house can only make her even more confident.  Though I sometimes refer to her as a very expensive mongrel she really is a ‘grand wee dug’, and I’ll give an update in due course.

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