Hi, I'm Nina Iordanova and this is the 30th edition of Something Good, a newsletter filtered through my 🧠, 🖐, and ❤️. Coming your way every two weeks, I hope you find something good here.
There are two versions of this newsletter that have existed in my head over the past three weeks. One where I tell you all the ways Gemma is the smartest cutest sweetest puppy that ever lived, and one detailing the greatest story ever sold to us, AKA the joy of getting a puppy.
While I’m not entirely convinced that puppies aren’t a scam, life with Gemma has settled down a bit in the last week or two. Here’s how she’s sleeping while I write this newsletter:
Before I got her, a lot of people (friends, strangers) warned me about how much work raising a puppy was, especially for one person living alone. And I went, “Yeah yeah, I understand, lots of work, wake up early, peeing everywhere, biting, no sleep, yup!”.
Theoretically, I understood and didn’t have a problem with any of those things. I’d done hard things before and gotten through them just fine!
It was not fine.
The first few days were a nightmare of dealing with a small animal that I couldn’t understand or communicate with, who seemed to have boundless amounts of energy and sharp teeth and who needed to (or didn’t need to???) pee every hour.
I barely slept, didn’t have time to eat let alone cook or do normal life things. I don’t think I showered or brushed my teeth most days (yes it was very gross), and didn’t have a second of free time to myself. It felt like I spent 72 hours on the edge of a panic attack.
I’m lucky to have friends who cooked for me, brought me food, came to stay with me or take Gemma for a few hours, and basically made sure I came out sane at the end of that first week.
I started using an Excel spreadsheet to track when she peed and pooped, took her to the vet when she got diarrhea and an eye infection, and lured her with treats when she refused to walk. I resigned myself to waking up constantly throughout the night when she whined, the fear of god in me that if I didn’t let her out fast enough, she’d poop all over my walls.
And then, things slowly started to get better. We began to develop a routine, she learned the “go pee” command, began to settle a little more in her crate, and started finding puppy friends to play with who would tire her out.
I think the first moment I thought, “I might one day start to like this dog,” was when I threw a ball for her down my entrance hallway and she went to get it. She picked it up in her tiny puppy mouth and trotted back towards me, tail wagging and eyes bright.
Another moment was when she was scared to walk on a grate but trusted me (and wanted treats enough) to be lured onto it, then walked all the way across. And then on the way back stopped in the middle and peed all over it.
Taking Gemma on her many walks a day has also helped me meet a lot of my neighbours! I’ve met children, families, older people, people my age, and everyone remembers her the next time they see her. Here’s my overly conscientious list of people I’ve met and their dogs (hoping to remember them the next time I meet them too).
Then here’s one short idyllic moment at the park captured on camera.
I tried to quit my singing lessons because figuring out how to do basic life stuff with this creature was already a challenge (main food source right now: Soylent), but my teacher talked me into sticking out. He said if I sacrifice all the things that are important to me on her behalf, I’ll grow to resent her before long. And I think he was right. It’s been good to still have one hobby haha.
Anyway, a ton of photos, not many updates, mostly just coming up for air to say I’m still alive and hated the transition to dog parent but now am starting to love this strange bitey creature who lives in my house.
She also learned “paw” today.
Okay, catch you soon!
✨
Warmly yours,
Nina
Thanks for reading and I'll see you in two weeks! 👋