The Chaos Has Arrived: Day One With Zag (And Why My Plan Was Trash)

The First Hour: A Lesson in Trust

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Round Two is officially underway. If you followed my panic post from last week... My first, immediate failure? Both collars I bought are ridiculously too big. He is much smaller than I anticipated...

I thought I’d introduce him to his area slowly... Instead, he was paralyzed by fear. For the first hour, he barely moved...

The Power Nap Reset: From Fear to Turbo Mode

That intense silence and dependence lasted exactly until his first long nap... When he finally woke up for the second time, the switch was flipped. His tail went into turbo mode... He hit the floor running, sniffing every corner, and immediately targeted the shoelaces on the sneakers I left by default in the hallway.

The new chewing toy? Of course not. He found a plastic bottle cap on the floor and that became the most entertaining object of the day. Than he attack the blanket on his bed before finally settling down for a third, massive nap.

The First Night: The Question of 'Why'

The crying eventually started. Not the "I’m scared" whines, but the "I know you're right there, let me out" demands. That’s when the real mental chaos kicked in. Watching him bolt through the house, trying to squeeze into impossible places, and repeating "no" every thirty seconds, I had that moment: "Why did I do this to myself again?"

It was a tough moment of exhaustion and pure frustration. But then, I remembered Zag 1.0.

I remembered the look in his eyes, the pure, explosive joy when I walked through the door, the uncontrollable excitement when the leash came out for a walk. That feeling—that pure, uncomplicated love—is the answer.

I realized that the early months of stress and exhaustion are the price you pay for a decade of that unparalleled loyalty and happiness. The exhaustion is worth it.

My First Takeaway: Trust the Vibe, Not the Clock

It was less about training, more about bonding. The moment he finally settled down, I knew that the real preparation wasn't the checklist. It was accepting that I have zero control over the next few months, and that’s okay.

Welcome home, Zag. Let the real work begin.

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