This weekend, I became a parent.
He is a couple days shy of three months old. He is a miniature piebald dachshund puppy. I’ve mentioned on here before that I had a penchant for going to pet stores. This puppy burrowed its way into my heart unlike any pup had before. Initially, when I left him behind at the store, I started crying. Can you believe it? I broke down in tears, right in the mall, because I felt like this puppy should be mine and I was heartbroken at putting him back.
The next day, he left the puppy store in my arms. We named him Apollo. He is a sweet puppy. Though prone to normal puppy behavior like chewing wires and pooping on my carpet, he is a very bright, very good little puppy. He is already starting to learn some commands, like “stay” and “go to your bed.”
He is also very sociable, which is a huge relief for me. I grew up with dachshunds; one was a very good dachshund, and one is a very neurotic one. My biggest fear is that Apollo will be like Harry, my family’s dachshund. Harry cannot socialize with anyone but family members, and barks all the time when he is upset. But Apollo is very friendly with the countless strangers who want to pet him (if you ever want to be popular, get a cute puppy).
Right now, I’m focused on being a good puppy mom and getting Apollo adapted to a schedule. I’m trying my best to train him consistently because I know from experience that dachshunds are smart, manipulative little creatures. Training can be difficult and he alternates between being an absolute snuggle bug and a handful, but I knew going in that a puppy would be hard work. Hopefully I can be a decent owner so that my dog does not grow up to be a canine version of Paris Hilton.