How can I have a blog without dedicating an entire page for Hercules?
Hercules, our fluffy white Pomeranian, was born on November 4th, 2019, just before the world tilted with the pandemic – definitely not a “Covid Pet.” We got him when he was about 8 weeks old. His presence filled the void left by our 22-year-old cat, Jock, whom we’d had to say goodbye to a few months prior. The thought of another cat felt like setting up an unfair comparison to Jock, so we decided on a dog instead, despite my general lack of affinity for canines. While I might still not consider myself a “dog person,” I am unequivocally a “Hercules person.”
Before Hercules, my appreciation for dogs was limited to the fleeting charm of puppies. The barking, licking, and the necessity of walks were significant drawbacks. Cats, with their quiet self-sufficiency and the convenience of a litter box, were far more appealing. I’d actively avoid dogs in public and even felt a sense of dread when visiting friends with overly enthusiastic greeters. The whole concept of dog ownership seemed like too much work and too much chaos.
Knowing my reservations, even as we drove to the breeder, I still harbored doubts. “Are you sure about this, Scott?” I remember asking, the car already parked outside their home. Scott suggested we at least take a look. Of course, We all know that puppies have this magical power that disarms people, makes people weak in their knees and totally surrenders to their cuteness. So, yes I fell victim to that. One look at baby Hercules and I was all in pieces. How could I walk away from that now?! Needless to say, we didn’t leave the breeder’s home empty handed.
Now, how does someone who doesn’t like dogs cope with having one? The answer, I discovered, was to train him to bypass all my canine pet peeves. I had to channel an inner “Dog Whisperer” I didn’t know existed. Pomeranians are notorious barkers, so that was my first target. With consistent “Quiet!” commands every time he started to vocalize, a small miracle occurred. To this day, Hercules is remarkably quiet, rarely barking even at the neighborhood dogs, fireworks, or thunderstorms. Consistency with that single word was key.
Next was eliminating the need for walks. To me, a pee pad was the dog equivalent of a litter box. We briefly considered a real litter box, but the image of a dog in a sandbox seemed… problematic. So, we diligently trained him to use the pee pad indoors. It worked beautifully. He’d happily romp in the backyard and then come inside to do his business on the pad before heading back out to play again. I might even share our pee-pad training techniques in a blog someday.
Licking was another potential issue. While I understood it was a natural dog behavior, I wasn’t keen on the slobbery greetings. However, something unexpected happened. Around two months in, I completely fell in love with Hercules. What might take others days or weeks took me a little longer, but his puppy magic eventually worked its charm. Suddenly, the licks felt less like unwanted slobber and more like little expressions of affection – tiny kisses I now gladly accept. For someone who didn’t care for dogs, this was a monumental shift. Over the years, I’ve done things for Hercules I never imagined doing for a dog, from grooming and expressing his anal glands to brushing his teeth and sharing my pillow. Pre-2019, that would have sounded utterly insane.
Now, I can’t imagine life without Hercules. He’s not just a pet; he feels like a little person with a personality that even outshines Jock’s (sorry, old friend – I tried!). Looking back, I can’t believe I almost talked myself out of bringing him home. I’m eternally grateful that puppy magic, and Scott’s gentle nudge, prevailed.
