What 30 Days With a New Puppy Looks Like

TLDR: Day 1: I’m never going to make it. Day 30: I might.

So, the first week, you realize there’s a stranger in your home.

And as you wise up, you realize grass is better than any toy. Even though you bought her 4 million off Amazon.

And that leaves are lyfe. Especially when they have gross things in them you can eat.

Meanwhile, nights and days start to blur because your puppy will not stop screaming in her crate. And, you’re not sure you’ll ever sleep again. And your neighbors complain. And you think you might lose your home. And your mind. And you’re not sure which will come first.

And then you start saying “stop” and “let’s go” to yourself at every street corner, no matter if you’re walking by yourself. And then your leash snaps in half, and your puppy runs three blocks, into traffic, and finally circles around, nearly ducks into an alley, and for some reason, decides to come running 60 feet back to you. And you realize, “Oh, I do want this thing. That was close.”

And then you’re “politely” reminded that even when this beast pees on your bed, you still have to feed her. And your friends are asking you for more photos, and you literally can not imagine the idea of having a second to think to take a photo — to do anything, that’s not somehow directly related to keeping this thing alive. And you take her to the vet, and she’s just 19 lbs, and you realize she’s so small, and this is only her third month of life ever, and her first week inside — and context is so key to survival.

“Me: walk by my side
Z: so extra”

And then you try to impart your newly gained wisdom on others so that they know not to make the same mistakes you did, and that puppies aren’t worth it, or maybe they are, but like, man you’re in for it: 11 pro tips eery puppy owner should know

And you take to Twitter to express your frustration, and also your love.

“Z is now using one of my bed pillows like a dog pillow, and is curled up on it in a ball. Adorable, funny, and accurate, — like wth do I need two anyway.”

“Walked more than a 26,000 steps today & Z still spent 5 hours terrorizing my afternoon. Plz send an emotional support animal for me to deal w my unsupportive animal. K thx.”

“Today Z: tried to dig a hole in a brick, peed on a restaurant’s welcome carpet, almost tore off the roof from a homeless person’s shelter, and bit one diamond ring. I’d give that a 5/5 on the I can survive scale.”

But then, you meet the security guard in the court building you walk by every day, as he’s getting off duty late one night. And, he tells you, you and your pup make his morning every day. And you start to see the community that’s always been around you…

There are puppy owners everywhere, and you lament about puppy pads, and and biting, and kongs, and… life, together.

“Btw Z has a bestie named Athena who’s a big pomsky that lives across the street & they’re the cutest. #girlpower #leanin”

And then you’re like…is this thing broken? Is she dumb? Is she sick? Why is her stomach upset? Why are her eyes running? How many more shots and trips to the vet will she need this year? How will she do with a cone on her head? Can she eat that bone? Is this normal?

“Z decimated my Banksy coffee table book & I had to applaud her bc clearly she gets it: F the wo(man) thru ur own art”

“Z poops mid-crossing the street w seconds to go. Me: oh shit Girl walking next to me: literally #badundun”

“Two men dining at Z’s eye-level adjacent to a glass wall. Z joins and tries to eat food through glass. #thirdwheelaf”

And then, just as you’re at peak frustration because your own dog is biting you and jumping five feet in the air at its leash, you start getting all sorts of really great, unsolicited parenting advice. And it nearly pushes you over the edge. And you realize puppy support groups should 100% be a thing. Like new mom groups, except you don’t bring the puppies — just for people.

“Woman: Your dog has a plastic bottle in her mouth Me: She’s big on recycling”

“Woman: Your dog has a cigar in its mouth Me: They don’t make e-cigs for them”

“Woman: Your dog has a bag in her mouth Me: We all have to carry our weight in this family”

And then, somehow, you start to get your schedule under control, and your sense of self slowly returns. And you feel things, and remember your hopes and dreams.

And you find moments to laugh.

Meanwhile, you are always training. While people gush and rush up to your puppy, you are always teaching sit, and stay, and … drop it. Always drop it. But really, you know you need to train the people.

“Tricks Z knows (when she wants to): sit, down, stay, let’s go, stop, touch, attack, drop, leave it, stop f*cking biting me.”

“Z eats sweet potato, carrots, turkey, and apples eery day. I eat kitkats, cookies, and cereal. Something seems off.”

And, your puppy is a terror to your real friends, because she wants all of your attention. On every walk, whenever they stop by, no matter where you go.

“Z do u remember @thesharonchoi & @yichenlivened? Bites bites bites. Kk so u do.”

And so you explore your new world, together. And yet, oddly, alone.

And eventually, you celebrate, because you think you might make it. (Both of you!) Because, there it is: love.