Finally on May 3rd it was time to bring Murphy to his new home. A mixture of over-excitement and extreme-worry set in on the journey to Swindon, as it slowly dawned that perhaps, just perhaps, we really didn't have a clue what we were doing. We brought a friend with us (aka Murphy's Aunty Tara) who had been through all this before with her Basset Hound Charlie. My theory being that she would be a fountain of knowledge and calming influence when I would inevitably start to ask silly panicked questions that I already knew the answer to. Which of course, she was.
Murphy was one of only two puppies left to be collected and he greeted us with an over-whelming level of enthusiasm. I had been with Tara to visit him the previous week and then again with Dave a few days before, so he will have known my smell the best....but of course it was Dave that he was the most delighted to see (an instant adoration that just seems to be growing stronger each day) and his little tail was a blur as he joyously licked every inch of face that he could reach. He seems to have a bit of a thing for hair, so finds Dave's beard fascinating!
I did all the paperwork while they got down to some serious father-son bonding. Then all too quickly we were waving goodbye and were suddenly expected to keep him alive and happy all by ourselves. Panic! When I say panic, I of course refer only to myself. Dave, Tara and even Murphy were all perfectly calm while my mind raced through all the potential disaster scenarios that I could think of. All of them resulting in the puppy either not liking me or getting sick on my watch....and then not liking me for allowing it to happen.
During the 2 hour drive Murphy sat happily on my lap, alternating between confusion, curiosity and exhaustion. By the time we got home he was fast asleep with his face squeezed under my arm, doing his best to hide from all the weird stuff going on around him.
As soon as we got home we rushing him straight out into the garden for a wee! I was paranoid that he would have an accident for the whole drive home, as we had been advised that 8 week old pups can generally only hold their bladders for half an hour....so I plopped him down on the ground and we waited....poised for action....
You see, the breeders had sent us away with a wonderfully helpful guide for what to expect and a few handy tips to make life easier. One of these tips was to introduce a 'cue word' to use whenever he went to the toilet. They said that with their dogs they use "Busy busy!", which seemed like a good enough phrase to us. The idea behind the saying of cue words during the act of 'toilet-ing' is that some day down the line you can then use that word to command your dog to go to the loo when you want them too. Genius!
And so it was that the moment little Murphy chose to christen the lawn, he was startled by three delighted humans chorusing "BUSY BUSYYY!!", quickly followed by "oh what a good boy! Oh you're so clever! Clever Murphy!!". We were rewarded for our enthusiasm and praise with a look of utter bewilderment. For the next few weeks he stared at us as though we were the weirdest idiots he had ever seen, as every single time that he went to the loo it was accompanied by those strange and apparently VERY silly words. Then one day on a total whim one of us tried asking him if he needed to go 'busy busy' and he happily trotted off and went. It works!! Now if we ask him to go and he doesn't need to, he tends to sit down and cry for a few seconds. I can only assume that this is because he knows full well that if he goes when he's told then he gets a treat. Murphy lives for treats.
So, after a successful wee and a bit of a toddle around, we brought him inside for his very first home-cooked meal. Kibble. According to Murphy, Kibble is the best thing EVER. We don't even need to buy him special doggy treats, as he will do absolutely anything for a piece of his regular food. Apparently this food obsession is a common trait with Labradors and they are almost always hungry.
The next important thing that we absolutely had to do (but were both dreading) was to introduce the puppy to his crate. This is an adult-sized steel cage with a bed inside, where he would be spending his nights. We live in a rented house and it's part of our contract that he's not allowed upstairs, so it was extra important to get him used to being shut inside the crate as early on as possible.
To do this we opened the door and placed Murphy down by the entrance, making soothing and encouraging noises and generally trying to look as calm as possible. This was all very nice and easy during this first stage. We then dropped a piece of exciting food through the top so that it landed at the very back and he was forced to step inside if he wanted it....which of course he did. He immediately came rushing back out for a reassuring cuddle, then we gently placed him back at the entrance, repeating the exercise about 10 times. Once he was comfortable pottering in and out, we initiated phase two...shutting the door. The first few times, we simply let the door swing quietly shut behind him, opening it as soon as he realised that he was shut in. He shot out like a lightning bolt! The next few stages were when it began to get tough. We had to shut the door for longer and longer spells of puppy imprisonment and goodness me he could yell when he needed to! He was really surprisingly good about it all, until I decided to push it just a teensy bit too far...."yelp!". The immediate instinct was to throw the door open and grab the poor little panicky pup and cuddle him until it was aaaaall better. Bad idea. Fortunately we had done our research and knew that in that situation the only thing to do was to walk away. And wait. It was heart breaking. Fortunately the yelping died down to a whimper, which quickly gave way to reluctant silence, so we let him out quickly before he started up again! After that, trying again was the absolute last thing that either of us wanted to do, but we had to. And we did. In hindsight earplugs would have been a good investment.
After about half an hour of 'crate training' we all felt as though we thoroughly deserved a break, so we introduced Murphy to the rest of the room. That was all really very exciting for all of 5 minutes, when overwhelmed after a very long and busy day, our fuzzy little boy fell asleep in his daddy's lap.
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