Day one, you’re optimistic. You’ve got treats, potty pads, a schedule, and the delusional belief that consistency equals success. Spoiler: it doesn't. That puppy will look you dead in the fucking eye, squat on your rug, and wag its tail like it just solved world fucking peace.
You take them outside every 20 minutes. They sniff, they frolic, they eat a leaf, they do everything except piss. Then you bring them inside and boom, a piss tsunami on your hardwoods. You Google “puppy training tips” while scrubbing your floor with tears and vinegar.
Nighttime? Oh, you thought sleep was still a thing? Fuck no. You’re now on the 3 a.m. potty patrol, standing barefoot in your yard while your puppy chases a moth and forgets why you're out there. Meanwhile, your neighbors think you’ve joined a cult.
And don’t even start with crate training. The crate is supposed to be their safe space; instead, it's a padded cell where they scream like banshees and shit defiantly in protest. You clean it up, they do it again. It's a fucking hostage situation and you’re the one negotiating with liver treats.
Eventually, you get a win. They pee outside. You cheer like they just graduated college. You post about it. You believe the tide is turning. Then they take a shit behind your couch while maintaining eye contact. That’s not an accident; that’s a declaration of war.
House training a puppy isn’t a bonding experience; it’s a psychological endurance test. You will question your life choices. You will cry in your laundry room. You will say “good boy” through gritted teeth while holding a bag of warm regret.
But one day, they’ll sit by the door, tail wagging, waiting to go out. You’ll take them, they’ll pop a successful squat, and you’ll feel like you’ve fucking conquered Everest. Until then, stock up on paper towels, wine, and whatever shred of sanity you’ve got left.
And let's not EVEN fucking talk about how fucking impossible it is to house break a goddam small dog. Shit demons, piss fountains. And they eat cat shit, too.
Welcome to the shitshow. You’re doing great. Probably.
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