Flossie, our newly adopted rescue dog from Cyprus did not want to sleep alone.
The shrieks penetrating the walls of our utility room after we attempted to put her to bed on her own, were ear-splitting.
After listening to the hysterical crying for a couple of minutes, I went back downstairs and scooped her up in my arms.
I was annoyed with myself for being so naive. When our previous dog, Dotty was a puppy she cried for a night or two. That’s to be expected with a new puppy.
But this was on a different level. Flossie was really distressed and I berated myself for thinking that a 20 week old puppy who had grown up wild in Cyprus was going to sleep all alone on her first night in a strange country.
Graham and I looked at this scared little girl, who had desperately scrabbled to get to me as soon as I opened the utility room door, and made our decision.
The first night (part two)
We spent that first night with a hot, slightly smelly puppy sprawled across us. She took up a surprising amount of space for such a small creature and we found ourselves hanging onto the sides of the bed so that she was comfortable.
We, on the other hand, were not.
At various intervals during the night, she would jump off the bed, landing on the floor with a resounding thud so she could roam around the room looking for something to chew. We weren’t sure if she needed the toilet so I would leap out of bed too, pulling on clothing so I could take her down the two flights of stairs, only to find that she didn’t actually need to go, but that she quite enjoyed a look around the garden at 2am.
I don’t think any of us got much sleep that night.
Back to the drawing board
By Christmas Day, Graham and I were both bleary eyed. Fortunately, we were spending it alone, with our new addition, of course.
That night, we thought it would make sense to try to get Flossie used to the room where we ultimately wanted her to sleep.
So I spent Christmas night sleeping on the utility room floor.
I like our utility room. It’s a warm and pleasant room with a door onto the garden. But my years of sleeping on floors, albeit on this occasion on some reasonably comfy sofa cushions, are long gone.
And, any hopes I had of Flossie trying out her own snug bed, which was right next to me, were soon dashed. Oh no, she much preferred lying across me, pinning my legs to the sofa cushions so that pins and needles and a sense of claustrophobia were never far away.
In the morning, as I heaved myself up off the floor, clutching my aching back and feeling more than a little grumpy from the lack of sleep, I realised this was going to be a long game.
It was back to the drawing board again.
Merry Christmas
We agreed there was little point us both losing sleep. I certainly didn’t want to spend another night on the floor, but there was no way our Cyprus girl was anywhere near ready to start sleeping on her own.
So, Graham moved into the spare bedroom so that Flossie could sleep with me in our room. At least I got to sleep in a comfy bed, and so, it transpired, did Flossie.
Graham took care of the bedtime garden visit while I got ready for bed, making sure the bedroom was ‘Flossie-proof’ for the night. All tempting chewable items such as slippers, cushions and clothing were stored safely away and I would slip into bed and wait for him to bring her in.
He carried Flossie up the stairs and set her down on the bed where I’d laid out a cosy blanket for her.
She was so excited, scampering around the bed and burrowing into my face. Then she plonked herself down, wrapping herself around my legs so there was no chance of me being able to escape.
Graham would smile and, as he left the room, he’d say quietly, “Merry Christmas” as Flossie and I settled down to sleep.
This arrangement continued for many nights.
We bonded
Having a needy puppy attached to you limpet-like all night is not conducive to a good night’s sleep.
She was hot, heavy, noisy and wriggly. She scratched, she snuffled, she twitched and did little woofs in her sleep. And that’s when she wasn’t jumping on and off the bed to do random circuits of the bedroom. It was exhausting.
But in hindsight I treasure that time. She was so trusting and loving and it really helped her bond with me during those important early days and weeks.
However, we really needed to move this process on.
The move downstairs
We had bought her a crate. I hadn’t used one before and we had primarily got it for her to use during the day so that we could actually leave the room for a few minutes without her destroying the place. Now, we decided it might help us with our night-time problem too.
Flossie and I moved downstairs to the TV room next to the utility room, our ultimate destination. I set myself up on the sofa and placed Flossie’s crate next to me, with the crate door open.
When it was time for bed, I scattered treats in the crate, encouraged Flossie to go in and got myself settled on the sofa. Whilst it wasn’t as comfortable as a bed, it was certainly better than the floor.
Flossie ate the treats, jumped on top of me and stretched out across my lower legs. The crate was ignored for the rest of the night.
It wasn’t what I’d had in mind but I decided it was positive that she was getting used to being downstairs, even if she wasn’t sleeping in the crate yet. We would keep working on it, until she felt secure about each stage.
Then came a bigger step. By now she had been used to going in the crate for short bursts during the day, so I was going to try putting her in the crate and shutting the door. I would be right next to her but, for the first time since she arrived, she was not going to have any physical contact with me.
I knew she would cry, and I was right. However, we had taken the whole process slowly, and I knew her much better now so I could judge that her cries were not on the same level as they had been in those early days. These cries were more petulant and I had to harden my heart, put my hands over my ears, and wait it out.
She cried for about 30 minutes. The crate was right next to my head, so it was noisy. I ignored her, hoping that my proximity would comfort her and that the previous nights in the room would reassure her that she was quite all right. After a couple of dramatic whimpers, she flung herself down onto her blanket and fell fast asleep. I didn’t hear a squeak out of her until 6am.
Progress at last.
We repeated this procedure for several nights, each night an improvement on the last until she was happily settling down in her crate, with me nearby on the sofa and we would both have a good night.
Her first night alone
The next stage was a significant one. Could she sleep in her crate in the TV room but without me being there?
I chose a day when I knew she was tired. She went into her crate with some treats and I closed the crate door, as usual.
But, instead of settling down on the sofa nearby, I quietly left the room and shut the door. Then I waited with bated breath.
There was silence.
I crept back up the stairs listening intently, half-expecting to hear her cries.
More silence.
In fact, we made it right the way through the night until 7am.
I was so proud of her.
The final move
There were just two more steps in our plan. After spending several quiet nights in her crate without me being in the room, we moved the crate into the utility room.
I repeated our routine. In she went, perfectly happily and she was as quiet as a church mouse all night.
A few nights later, I left the crate door open so she could choose to sleep in it or in the big comfy bed that I’d wanted her to sleep in on night one.
I came down in the morning and she was curled up, fast asleep in the bed. I could tell she hadn’t even been in the crate.
After a few nights, we removed the crate altogether.
What our nights are like now
The whole process took 12 weeks. I’m sure we could have done things differently, or more quickly, but it felt right for us and, more importantly, for Flossie, to take our time.
The result is that we now have a dog who is happy to go to bed on her own in the room where we want her to sleep. In fact, she quite often takes herself down there.
She loves being in her own space and we don’t hear a peep out of her all night, ever.
Lessons learnt
Sharing your life with a new puppy or dog is a lot of hard work, especially at the beginning. I knew that already from growing up with dogs and having my own dog, Dotty, for 13 years.
Now, I was learning that living with a foreign rescue puppy involves even more hard work as well as enormous amounts of patience, time and, of course, love.
However, what you get in return is all the more rewarding.
What next?
We’d cracked the sleep thing. It had taken a while but she had come a long way in a relatively short time. It felt like a huge achievement.
But this was just one challenge.
There were many more to come.
Suzy Pope is a certified copywriter and newspaper columnist specialising in pets, business and lifestyle. If you would like help with a writing project, please get in touch.
