We are working into a routine with our new daughter, who is as dependent on us as a newborn. Early morning walks are obviously the rule. She’s overnighting very well and able to hold her bladder until we get her outside, and then there’s usually a hunt for someplace to poop. I haven’t been home during the day much this past week but the girls tell me she’s getting better at letting them know when she needs to go out. At night I’m staying up until about 10:45 and then taking her for a final walk. Then we settle down and she usually falls asleep at my feet or in my lap, and I quietly transfer her into the crate. Then I head upstairs to get into bed about an hour beyond my normal time.
What this means is that we’re all sleep-deprived—well, Jen and I are. Finley has been good at taking on some of the responsibility but as a kid who needs her sleep the overnights are our watch. So I’m dragging ass and struggling to think coherently.
We have a doggy DNA test in hand and are going to wait on the results to know if she’s a good match for the cats—if there’s a large percentage of Jack Russell Terrier, we’ve got to rethink our situation completely.