Darby is three months old today and all is going well.  She had a very busy week, as Steve and I made a four-day trip to Phoenix and Darby stayed with veteran puppy master Connie Gonczy and her husband Steve. We were barely back for two days when Darby spent the weekend with puppy-sitters Susan Miller and Frank Novick (while Steve and I attended an all-day gardening seminar Saturday.)

We haven’t been back to the vet’s in a while, other than to receive her second round of puppy shots.  We’re taking the advice of CCI’s vet in Northern California and figuring if Darby doesn’t have any symptoms of urinary distress, all’s probably well.  She’s sleeping through the night with no problems, and she’s having practically no accidents in the house.  When she’s out of her kennel and the door is open, as it is increasingly since it’s spring, she will spontaneously go out to urinate and defecate.  The only recent accidents have come when a visitor arrives and excitement causes her to pee.  So life is vastly smoother than it was when she was a brand-new arrival, just a month ago.

She does appear to be getting more mischievous, whenever we turn our back on her.  Steve found her chewing a corner of a rug this morning, and she’s discovered the joys of digging.  But every time she misbehaves in one of these ways, we invariably conclude that WE failed to provide proper supervision.  We constantly think of some words of Val Valentine, when we got our first puppy.  Something to the effect of: “Puppies are constantly learning, and they can either learn bad habits or good ones.”

Here Darby attempts to murder my newly planted garlic chives.  Delicious!
Once, this was the plug on the end of the lamp in my office.  Then someone chewed it off.  (Fortunately, it was not plugged in!)  Who could the culprit be?

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