For the past couple of days I've been reading various web-sites on Great Pyrenees dogs, and I've come to the conclusion that Savannah truly believes that her mission in this puppy life of hers is to protect this house and everyone and everything in it from unexpected noises and unwanted strangers. And that goes double for the hours between midnight and sunrise.
I think Savannah knew how upset I've been with her lately because she's been very quiet for a couple of days. Except at night, when night-time noises still make her roar like a lion. I did again entertain the notion that maybe we should let her come upstairs with us at night, but then that defeats our purpose--- she may not hear 'important' noises from up there, plus if she does roar in the middle of the night, my husband may fall out of bed with a heart attack. So even though Savannah watches me going up the back stairs at night, I am not inviting her to follow me, and she does not go up there on her own.
Speaking of those back stairs... the bottom step that now carries Savannah's teeth marks seem to be safe from further chewing. My friend Cindy told me that making a paste of cayenne pepper and water and 'painting' the step with that mixture would stop Savannah from chewing the same spot. So that's exactly what I did, and I happened to be in the kitchen when this puppy decided to take another bite of that vintage wood... and the look on her face was priceless. I didn't say a word to her, but I just watched her trying to wrap her tongue around her teeth in an effort to get the pepper out of her mouth. I have to admit that I couldn't even feel sorry for her, and she hasn't gone back to that step again since her first taste of cayenne.
Being that Savannah somehow knew that she wasn't exactly my favorite puppy in the world this week, she has been cuddling up to my husband every chance she gets. If he's sitting on the sofa, Savannah will lay her head on his foot or his ankle and just look up at him adoringly. (Shades of our other dog Gracie.) If Gary sits on the floor of the TV room, Savannah promptly puts her head on his thigh or she sits as close to him as she can get and then just leans her body against his chest. I have to wonder if she's trying to let me know that even though I'm upset with her, she still has the love of her daddy. Well, sure she does... he's not the one getting out of bed at two o'clock in the morning and taking her outside to the grass to either catch a moth or pee, whichever activity pops first into her sometimes-scattered puppy mind.
On Thursday afternoon, the ladies were here for tea, and we were all coloring Easter eggs in-between tea and cake. Being that I had the egg-coloring supplies on the dining room table, I set up the buffet for the desserts so we wouldn't be dripping purple food coloring on a vanilla pound cake. Savannah walked into the dining room and of course smelled the cakes... chocolate layer cake as well as the pound cake, plus a fruit-and-nut mix... and she sat herself right down in front of the buffet. She is certainly big enough to reach anything on that buffet.... all she had to do was put her front paws on that piece of furniture and her puppy mouth could have wrapped itself around her choice of dessert. But she just sat there, staring at the top of the buffet and sniffing the air... and of course my friends said "Oh what a good dog Savannah is!" I resisted the urge to tell them about the recent puddles on the kitchen floor and the tearing up of her bed, and the teeth marks on the wood step. I'm not one to put a sign around Savannah's neck that says "I have been a bad puppy!" and then post her picture on Facebook.
Honestly, Savannah can be such a good dog at times... and then sometimes all that puppy-ness bubbles up to the surface and it's no-paws-barred and she's off and running and trying to gobble up every bluebonnet and clump of grass she can find, and bark at every June-bug that hits the kitchen screen at night..... and the result is that I walk slowly through my day like a country zombie because I'm awake for half of the night.
And so goes life with a puppy that's part Border Collie (the smart and loyal half) and part Great Pyrenees (the unpredictable independent stubborn wide-awake-after-midnight part). My husband asked me recently if I would have chosen a Great Pyrenees if I'd known before-hand everything I know now about the breed. My answer was a very quick 'No.'
I would not have knowingly adopted a dog that insists on sleeping most of the day like a cat and then being wide awake for most of the night so she can protect her "livestock" from chirping crickets and distant train whistles and howling coyotes and every blessed thing that goes bump in a country night. And even on the days when Savannah runs around the dog park for an hour or more, she still insists on barking during the night because not even that extra exercise deters her from her appointed night-time rounds.
But the fact is that we did indeed choose Savannah, and after six months with us, this puppy has proven time and again that she truly knows she belongs here, and she does truly love us. And of course, no matter how mad I can get at her, the feeling is mutual. Savannah will be a year old on April 12. Surely some of this puppy-ness will have rubbed off by then. One can only hope.
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