Today was tough.
Hubs came home last night - sick, sick, sick. He spent the entire day in bed. Poor darling, he's still there.
I took Taggart to the vet. I confided in the vet that I was exhausted by this puppy; that I found myself utterly frustrated by the training (potty and otherwise), as he is not as smart as our last boxer. And it seems I have to get physical for him to listen - and napping him on the nose and on the bum hasn't made much difference, except that Chase runs around saying no and hits him with his toys - not exactly the lesson I want to teach my daughter about animals. So the vet helped. She gave me some new ideas about how to handle him. She told me to crate him more. She also told me to attach him to my belt, so that he is never on his own in the house, which makes correction easier. And finally, she told me to grr at him when he does something bad, and to scream when he nips. I guess that's better than making "no" every other word.
Fast forward to the afternoon - Tag had an allergic reaction to his vaccination, but I didn't find this out until 5 minutes before a (real jerk) contractor was due to arrive (to take a look at our oh-so-funky-kitchen). Chase hadn't napped. The vet told me Taggart could start convulsing at any minute. And the contractor gave me a guilt trip because he canceled his pilates class to meet with me.
What about the good news? The Denver Rockies made the World Series. Fingers crossed the Red Sox pull through...