Okay as promised a funny story about Doc.

When I said he went everywhere with me, it was pretty much EVERYWHERE. The teen 'mom' me at the time didn't get a break, not even the bathroom was sacred. I even tried asking my mom, to give me a break and puppy-sit for me during my cousin's graduation party. She showed up an hour later, Doc in tow, who you could hear crying as she was coming down the street with him to my uncle's house, and then he tried stopping halfway through a howl of tears the second he saw me.

But anyways, at about 8 weeks we decided it was probably time to start housebreaking little Doc, not any real training given his age, accidents will happen even with 5 year olds, but given his breed we decided that going on newspaper in the bathroom while 'mommy' was in there going, wasn't going to be a long term solution.

The problem was, he never seemed to think that outside was a place to go. He went for walks constantly, was always out in the great outdoors, but I guess had it in his head he was not a dog, and the only time and place he could go was when I had to.

In all fairness he had lost his mother before she could teach him proper bathroom techniques, as a male he even squatted down rather like a female dog, which is sad to say he properly learned from my posture in that regard. So my parents told me that if I wanted to start teaching him, and since he wasn't figuring it out no matter how long or far of a walk I took him on, that well maybe I just need to drop my drawers and show him.

We lived on a fairly secluded and well wooded lot... And while I love camping, if I have a choice of outdoors or in... I'm going with in...

So my dad finally offered to be the 'teacher'. Doc loved going on walks around the yard with dad, and was about the only 15 minute breaks I got from the pup on daily basis. Now when my father offered, I was thankful but at the same time thinking to myself 'TMI!!!!' but well something had to be done. And since my father was willing to gross me out and save my dignity from hanging out in the woods, well what's a kid to choose...

So he goes out for the first day of 'training', and I get an unnecessary report of failure which included the number of trees my father tried to show him at....Second day, similar report other than my dad's apologies that he couldn't try at another tree.... Third day, my dad comes in with a dripping wet puppy

Was it raining?

My dad hands me the wet the dog, and says nope it wasn't raining, but Doc seemed to have thought the point of the exercise was an outdoor shower.... Into the tub we went, almost re-enacting the Crying Game for both me and dog as I scrubbed like I've never scrubbed before.

A week later Doc had learned that he could go potty outside, due to the loss and airing out of my dignity.