Thankfully, I'm able to take her to my mom's house when I'm at work. I can imagine the mischief and mayhem she could (and would) cause if left by herself for any length of time. It's enough to give me a nervous twitch and a near-overwhelming urge to piddle.
My mother has a yard; a veritable dog Eden. There is plenty of room to run, dig, slobber and poop to puppy heart's content. And Mom is available to coach the dog in appropriate pee behavior. She takes Puppy to a certain spot and tells her to go potty, giving praise if Puppy does what she is told.
Actually, she doesn't say "go potty." She trains, old school; instructing Puppy in High German. This means that in order to properly reinforce good behavior, I must follow Mom's lead.
It's not too far a stretch for me. Many of my first words were in German. But, as I got older, I refused to speak a language that my friends didn't use (Mom was obviously low on my totem pole). Still, the words don't sound quite natural falling from my lips. I hope Puppy isn't confused or offended by my poor accent, like Mom is.
Really, though, I'm thankful my mother is able to care for my puppy when I'm not able to. She's a wonderful resource, even if she does speak a different language.
I should say, she's a wonderful resource because she speaks a different language. I always wanted my children to be bilingual.
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