Traumas and phobias

Continuing our Nightmare tale...

Where we last left off, we had just taken in the anonymous (back then) black dog in our home.

My husband said he would set up an inflatable mattress and sleep in the kitchen with her, while I would nap in the living room with Aschiuta.

Easier said than done, for my side at least. I kept tossing and turning, wondering what we were going to do. I was afraid the dog would be reckless or traumatised or not potty trained (actually that was the least of my concerns). I had all sorts of concerns, a new one on each side of the pillow.

In the morning, I decided to work from home and stay to take care of the dog while Scorp went to work.

First things first. The dog would need to go out and do her business, so she would get into the routine and not leave us any "presents" inside the house.

However, there was a problem that had shown up the night before when trying to bring the new dog home. The dog absolutely refused to go up the stairs. She climbed the few steps leading to the front door of the building and up to the first landing and then she simply tried to back up frantically, as if she were being hurt by the stairs. My husband had to carry her in his arms all the way to the 5th floor.

Now, I have myself been a dog carrier for a long time, carrying Aschiuta in my arms all the way to the vet when she was smaller or even lately, to pretend that I wouldn't let her make paw prints on the freshly washed floors, I would carry her up the stairs. But even that is only until the 2nd or 3rd floor.

The new dog was larger than Aschiuta, I would not be able to carry her up and down the stairs. Luckily, the elevator had been installed and working (most of the time), so we rode the elevator. She seemed almost used to this means of transportation, which makes me believe she had used it before.

She seemed to understand what the walks were for and left some "presents" for me to magically make disappear. I took her 3 or 4 times the first day, because she took so long to do anything and didn't do everything all at once.

I kept her shut in the kitchen while I worked and visited with her during breaks. I felt like a new mother and also a nurse. Because, besides the staircase phobia, our new friend also had a serious health problem... an infected wound on her forehead. But more on that later...

Bad booboo on such a sweet face...