Raising a Puppy

I didn't give it much thought. The puppy part I mean, I knew I was going to get a rescued dog, some poor little lost soul who needed my home and love. I didn't care how old the dog would be. I was pretty sure that I had to have a hypoallergenic dog, I did a little bit of breed research and I soon discovered that I didn't think a terrier would suit our style. I assumed that I could go get a poodle from a rescue organization.
Ha!
Go get one. Sure....nobody dumps a poodle. Well maybe the miniature ones but never ever the big standard ones. We knew that we wanted a large dog, we are just large dog people I guess. Nothing wrong with little dogs....they are portable for one thing but they are just too small for us.
We have visions of us running along the beach or hills with the wind in our hair and our dog at our side. NOT.
We don't run, well not really running unless being chased. Walking yes, lots and lots and lots of walking.
Puppy Lucy came from a breeder. A Calgary family who had two lovely poodles in their home and they bred them to produce seven beautiful little babies. Dad poodle is a tall white standard and Mom poodle is a red standard, only slightly smaller than the dad.
Lucy sleeps in a crate in out room, in a place where she can see me. It is comfortable for her and I put a hot water bottle in with her. When she mewls or whimpers I take her outside for a pee. Not as easy as it seems. The weather has been just god awful cold. Well into the -30s C at night and the path that I created in the level entry at the front is slippery and dangerous. I put cleats on my boots because I had a vision of me lying in the snow unconscious from a concussion and B sleeping peacefully away until late morning when he woke up wonder why there is no hot coffee.
The process of putting on my coat and boots and finding the leash and opening the door usually is way longer than a puppy bladder can handle and about 60% of the time we don't make it out the door.
These are notes from a month ago and now that Lucy is 15 weeks old her bladder is larger and her bark to launch me out of bed is louder. I sometimes mistake my snoring husband's sounds and in no time I am forcing a still sleeping pup out the door under her protest.