Yesterday, I got a crate for Winston. It seems he’s familiar with having one, but not very comfortable in it just yet. When I went to bed last night around 2:15 a.m., I didn’t put Winston in his crate because it’s still new and he’s been successfully sleeping in his bed. I passed right out. Fifteen minutes later I woke up the sound of a big crash.

My bad. I ordered pizza last night — I know! But I was hungry and I’m still adjusting my schedule to Winston’s — and left my plate on top of the box on the kitchen table. Winston tried to get to the pizza, knocked both the box and the ceramic plate to the floor. When I came in to see what happened, he ran straight into his crate and laid down. I left him alone and cleaned up the mess, picking and sweeping up shards of ceramic all over the kitchen so he wouldn’t step on any of them.

Fifteen minutes later, around 2:45 a.m., I closed the crate door, since Winston was still in it laying down calmly. At 5:30 a.m. this morning, I awoke to the loud, repetitive sound of Winston pawing at the crate door. Under normal circumstances, I would wait until he is calm-submissive to open the door, but at 5:30 a.m. in a building where the sound travels, I’m sure Winston had also awoken the neighbours who sleep directly above and below my living room and kitchen area. I let him out of the crate; he went straight to his bed and I went back to mine.

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I went to the gym this afternoon, the first time since getting Winston. I had a really great workout and it was nice to feel the burn again. As you can tell from the photo above, I keep detailed records of my workouts to track my progress.

After our shows tonight, I decided to go out for a drink. We went to a bar on Bloor West called Disgraceland, a favourite hang of mine that has great beer and killer late-night eats. I had a grilled peanut butter and banana sandwich and the Beans & Weans, a hot dog with baked beans on it. The food was great, the beer was great, the company was great.

When I got home, my workouts were on the table, but had clearly been chewed up. One of the pages was on the floor with a chunk torn out of it. My favourite sunglasses with yellow lenses were destroyed. It’s frustrating, but I guess this is the price of dog ownership. I’m concerned that I cannot afford to leave anything out if I leave the house. He’ll get into it and tear it apart. People are going to comment about crate training Winston and it seems like that might be something I have to do. Unfortunately, I can’t afford to buy a crate right now.

I’m still having a bit of trouble on the night walk, but I’m doing a lot of research. I can’t yet understand what Winston is trying to communicate to me. Maybe he’s just pissed off that I left him alone for five hours, but it’s something he’s going to have to adapt to since no one’s schedule allows for them to be home all the time.

Status: I love having him around, but I’m still doubtful that I’m the right parent for him.

This is what I came home to after our shows last night:

On Monday night, when I got home from teaching an improv class, Winston had taken one of my scarves from the back of a kitchen chair and dragged it to his bed. I didn’t think to take a photo at the time. When I got home last night, because I had made sure not to leave any of my scarves or other clothing out, he snagged a tea towel, that usually hangs from a lower kitchen cabinet and which I use to dry my hands, and took it to his bed. This time, I did think to snap a photo. Adorable, right?!

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It’s been pointed out to me today that I might be projecting the current stresses of my work life onto my pet life and that last night’s 4 a.m. post about giving him up is maybe a bit premature. I have some very wise and insightful friends. However, I am still wracked with doubt at my ability to properly raise this guy and have our lives integrate with each other’s, so please be patient with me as I go through this experience.

I want to make this whole process as transparent, inclusive and informative as possible, so that anyone reading these posts who is considering adopting a dog, can understand how way-more-than-feeling-prepared you actually think is necessary. The tasks for personal growth I’m taking this year will clearly be much bigger challenges than I expected. Looking ahead to a life with or without Winston, I can see both possibilities. I can also see potential for huge regret in finding him a new home.

What has become obvious is that I make decisions about my personal life in dramatic contrast to my work life. At work, I try to make my decisions with a lot of foresight and consider how they will impact everyone in my company and how those decision may or may not set precedent. In my personal life, it seems I’m much more impulsive. It seems that’s a character trait I’m going to have to work on.

The goal of my list of 100 challenges is all about forcing myself to have new experiences and improve my quality of life. I guess the question is this: Am I being too short-sighted and only looking at the impact on my quality of life as it currently is and not examining how Winston may improve my quality of life in the future?

I’d love to hear your opinions.

Status: Filled with doubt and vacillating between keeping him here or finding him a new home. Please have patience with me on this journey; I am clearly conflicted.

N.B. If you offer your opinions and comments, I would appreciate that you not do so in an angry manner. I’m putting myself out in the open and recognize that comes with scrutiny, but angry voices are more difficult to hear.

After writing my latest post last night, I kept thinking about how Winston took my scarf to his bed. It’s the kind of thing you see in movies. It’s romantic. It’s nostalgic. It makes us think of when times were more pastoral and peaceful.

I thought about what that must have meant for him, to want to be close to me, to smell my scent, to feel loved. When he was laying on my chest tonight as I watched TV after an exhausting day, It struck me that Winston needs more than I can honestly provide with my schedule.

I love dogs and Winston is great, but neither of those things make up for the amount of time I have had to put into him so far, that I cannot afford (literally, financially) to not be able to focus on work, and the fact that even what time I have given him isn’t even enough. He needs a parent with more patience than I have, with more time than I have, and who can give him the attention he needs and deserves.

The current situation is stressing both of us out, and I’m sure it’s boring him. The perception might be that I haven’t given it enough time, but it’s not like we go for two walks a day and that’s it. Since I got him, almost every waking moment has been about him. It’s not a partnership, it’s a job. It’s a noble and honorable job, and I respect anyone who can do this on their own, but it’s a job, and financially, it’s not allowing me the time to invest myself in the one that actually pays the bills. And the bills need to be paid.

This isn’t a movie, no matter how cute it may seem to personify Winston through his own Twitter feed. It’s a matter I take very seriously. It’s a matter that is very personal for me. While I don’t feel like a success, I don’t feel as though I have completely failed, either. But I severely underestimated what it takes to be a great parent to this dog, to allow him to feel fulfilled in a home that’s right for him. I’m an okay parent, but Winston needs someone who will be amazing for him.

While watching TV tonight, I realized that meeting Winston’s needs is ultimately the most important course of action. If I cannot provide that for him, I need to allow him to find a home that can. I don’t think it’s a failing on my part to recognize that I am not his best option, his best hope, but I’m certainly not chalking it up as a success story.

As you can guess by now, I have decided to find him a new home, no matter how much girls like guys with dogs. I’m going to change this adoption into a foster, and I’m going to make sure he goes to the right home. I’m sad. I’m torn up. But ultimately I have to be realistic. I think this choice is the right one for both of us.

I’m going to be contacting some friends who I think Winston might be great with, but if you are interested or know someone who is, I am looking to find the right home for him sooner rather than later, to reduce the amount and mpact of additional stress it will put on him.

So folks, Winston would do well with a backyard to play in, a pet parent who can walk him for one to two hours a day, and a parent who can be a good pack leader and provide the structure he needs. I guarantee you he will be a great pet and friend to the right person. Unfortunately, that person just isn’t me.

Status: Looking for a new home. Regretfully.

After watching a lot of Cesar Milan (The Dog Whisperer and Mastering Leadership) the past couple of days — despite some people’s objections to his techniques — there is significant improvement from both myself and Winston and a lot of reduced stress on my end. I’m starting to feel better about this decision, but I’m still concerned he might need a better home than I can provide.

Inline with Cesar’s teachings, I am working to constantly establish rules, boundaries and limitations — three things a dog needs in order to know that I am the pack leader.

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Many people have responded to my last post How Not to Adopt a Dog with a lot of reassurance, support and optimism. Thanks so much! It means the world to me. I also found out someone started a Twitter account and is posting as Winston. The posts are hilarious. And no, it’s not me.

Last night, I began watching the Dog Whisperer with Cesar Millan. I took Winston’s food and water off the floor by 8 p.m. and we went for a walk and a poop around midnight. Then, I got a great amount of sleep. Thankfully. He has already learned not to come into the back hallway where the bedrooms are. The flooring back there is old-school hardwood and if he pees on them, the ammonia in the urine could ruin the finish and damage the wood. He was well-behaved and stayed in the kitchen and living room area of the apartment, even with the hallway door open and slept well. He woke me at 9 a.m. for a walk and pee. After the walk, we came back home, I fed him, gave him some water and went back to bed. I’m usually up quite late and wake up in the late morning. I slept until 1 p.m.

Today, we had a long, full day. Winston and I went for a walk from about 1:30–4 p.m. I had to go to the bank and took him with me on the errand. On the way back, I ran into my friend Ryan. He and I ordered a pizza, came back to my place, ate and then went to rehearsal for the team that he’s on and I coach, Shiva Star. We left at 6:15 p.m. I got home at 10:30 p.m. The kitchen garbage bin that is currently stocked with urine soaked paper towels was all over the floor. I was picking up the same urine twice. The contents of my kitchen table were on the floor, except for my laptop, which thankfully, was barely clinging to the edge of the table.

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Of all the items on my 100 Things Challenge list, I thought adopting a dog would be one of the least challenging tasks. I’m an idiot.

As you may have read, I adopted a dog yesterday. His name is Winston. There will undoubtedly be a period of adjustment, it’s only been a little over 24 hours, but I’ve rarely felt more stress. Worst of all, I’m starting to think I’ve made a huge mistake.

Two days ago, on Thursday, Jan. 19, 2012 at 5:55 p.m., I went to Toronto Animal Services to meet a dog named Ralphie. TAS identified him as a Pembroke Welsh Corgi / Jack Russell cross, so I did some research on the breeds. The information I found online suggested that Jack Russell’s are very energetic and driven. “I can deal with that,” I thought, “it would get me out to the park, time to spend with Winston playing and having some fun.” Pembroke Welsh Corgis are described as “very affectionate” — sounds great to me! — and “tend to follow wherever their owners go” — I work from home, so no problem there.

I spent about 15 minutes with him in a 12′ x 14′ room. We took to each other instantly. He laid down beside me, put his head in my lap. This dog is great! It’s too late to do the adoption that evening, to fill out the paperwork and setup the tags, so I have to come back the next afternoon. Yesterday afternoon (Friday, Jan. 20, 2012) I went to the TAS and adopted Ralphie Winston.

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Remember the dog I mentioned that I was going to adopt? You know, the one in the picture above? He’s one year and seven months old, part Welsh Corgi (Pembroke), part Jack Russell Terrier, and completely awesome.

Well, I went to see him at Toronto Animal Services this evening and am going back tomorrow to pick him up. I’ve already picked up the food and water bowls (and food), leash and collar, poop bags, brush and some treats. I’ll have to get him a bed tomorrow but Costco has those on for super cheap.

I haven’t yet decided on a name yet but I think he deserves a right proper Welsh- or British-sounding name. I’ll decide on that tonight so that when I fill out the adoption papers tomorrow his new name will be on those.