Cut the Shit

For the Love of Tyler

As you should know by now, my parents gave me a new puppy for Christmas! He is a miniature, wire-haired dachshund. I named him Tyler and he was born on October 2nd, which makes him just over 3 months old, although he’s still so tiny. In fact, he’s so tiny that I’ve found myself losing him inside of my apartment, which as any New Yorker knows, is not THAT big.

In any case, when I first laid eyes on Tyler, I was enamored. He has the most thoughtful and beautiful eyes and his personality is so kind and gentle and well…happy. He hasn’t had a bad day yet and as far as I can tell, he hasn’t really had a bad moment. That is until I came into his life.

For the first week that I had Tyler, I was in my parent’s house in Albany. With him not housetrained, I was blessed to have my parents running around the house helping me clean up his shit and piss. Since he’s still a baby…er…puppy, he needs constant attention and he chews on everything he can get into his mouth. But like I said, when I had my parents helping me out, I barely realized how much work it was.

My parents came down for New Year’s and they left early in the morning on New Year’s Day. They didn’t wake Tyler up because we all thought it would be easier for him to adjust to his new home if he didn’t have my mom cuddling him right before she walked out the door.

When I woke up on New Year’s Day, I looked at Tyler’s deep brown eyes and I thought, “I can’t do this. I can’t be responsible for him.” Although these horrific thoughts were going through my mind, I refused to tell anyone how I was feeling. I mean, what jackass begs for a dog, has their parents fly a pure bred in from Arizona, pay for most of the shots and present him as a gift on Christmas, only to turn around and say “I don’t want him”?

Tyler is perfect. Joe is not. My entire life has changed and for the last week and a half, I’ve felt as though he was more of an imposition than he was a joy. Although he jumps immediately into the air with excitement when he sees me, I found myself feeling ugly about the whole situation. I wanted to love him the way he loved me. But I just couldn’t. Something was holding me back…

Over the weekend, I started to tell people that I had “post-partum depression”; as though I birthed Tyler out of my vaginal canal. But you understand. I felt as though this adorable little dog wasn’t right for me, mostly because it wasn’t the right time in my life. As most of you know, I’ve just recently entered into this new phase of my life where I’m independent and liberated and free…for the first time in over 5 years.

Tyler stripped a lot of that independence away. I could no longer go out after work and party with my friends. I had to be home right away to be with the puppy. I could no longer stay in bed all day and wallow in my depression…I tried that, but Tyler pissed all over my comforter. I could no longer use whatever extra cash I had on something special for myself. Instead, I’m already trying to scrape together enough money to get him a distemper shot. This shit all began to pile up and I started to resent Tyler. A lot.

On Sunday night I was trying to sleep, and as any of you new puppy owners know, they don’t sleep through the night. In fact, they only sleep for a maximum of 3 hours before they have to either piss or shit or run around the place with their new toys. After a week of no sleep and considering that I’m someone who absolutely needs 8 hours of sleep a night, I was at my wit’s end. It was 2am and I was dreaming of a life with no responsibilities when all of a sudden Tyler jumped out of his bed and started barking as loud as he could. I woke up and did my daddy duties of “No Tyler. No barking Tyler. NO Tyler”, but he refused to stop and I tossed and turned for a few minutes before screaming at the top of my lungs “SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

It’s been 4 days and I STILL can’t rid myself of the guilt. He looked at me with his puppy eyes and I put my head under my pillow mortified that I lost my patience to such a degree.

Paul and I were having dinner on Monday night and he said “You know Joe…you need to have a little more patience with Tyler. You can’t yell at him the way you did. It’s not good.” I sat there at dinner and tears filled my eyes.

I KNOW that. I am “Mr. Animal Concerns” and I totally verbally abused him. It’s one thing to reprimand and to scold…trust me…I’m doing it every five seconds with him. But it’s totally another thing to scream that loud in your dog’s face. Tyler has since forgotten about the incident, but every time it crosses my mind, I get sick to my stomach. I fucked up.

On Tuesday night, I called my dear friend Ari, who has been raising dogs for years and explained the situation. She was nothing, but supportive, and literally wiped my tears over the phone. I may have just given up had I not talked to her at that moment. While on the phone with Ari, my mom called to check on what she calls “My little baby”. I answered the phone and my mom said “Hi Joe! I just wanted to see how it was going with the new cutie?” “Mom”, I said “I don’t know if I can do this and I feel terrible.” Tears flowed down my face as I relayed the whole story to her.

My mom, being the most wonderful woman that she is, listened to every word that came out of my mouth and she didn’t judge me nor make me feel bad for having the frustrations and the worry that I did. In fact, she explained to me that when she first had me, she wanted nothing more than to shove me back into her vagina. She said “Joe, it takes a while for this type of adjustment. But you will eventually grow to love him more than you ever thought was possible. And puppies are a lot of work and it just seems overwhelming right now. That will all change with time.”

I must have been on the phone with her for over an hour while I cried and she pulled me up and set me back on my feet.

Yesterday I woke up and Tyler was in his bed, which rests next to my pillow. I opened my eyes and Tyler’s snout was resting on my pillow, next to my face. As soon as my eyes opened, he stuck his little tongue out and licked my nose. My heart warmed and I kissed him on his furry face. We snuggled some more before I had to go to work.

When I had thought about getting a dog, I imagined that I would fall in love with him right away. It’s been frustrating that I don’t automatically feel that way, but I’m learning to take it day by day and to grow with the experience. Tyler is a wonderful dog and he will always have a happy home for as long as he’s alive. I just never thought that having a baby would change my life in so many new and challenging ways.