IT’S 7.30am, the day after Teddy’s five-month birthday, and I realise it’s the first time in a month I haven’t been awoken by an early morning whimper.
Not that this much-appreciated long lie will be repeated very often during the coming weeks, but the minor miracle is an important milestone nonetheless, and justifiable cause for celebration.

Though Teddy was pretty much house trained by the time he arrived – a merciful blessing to escape the constant toilet training that normally dominates the early weeks of puppy ownership – he wasn’t crate trained, so getting him adjusted to sleeping overnight in one has been a gradual transition.
Few sounds are more upsetting than that of a puppy whimpering, and the little monsters seem quick to realise this.

For those in rented accommodation or with neighbours close by, there’s an added frisson of tension in the equation: those cries sound even louder in the early hours and keeping other people awake could be a recipe for disaster.
But when is a whine a disgruntled complaint about being left alone and when is it a genuinely distressed plea to go to the loo? Distinguishing between the two proves to be something of a minefield, but we’re making good progress.
The breeders, veteran owners and online forums are full of advice for the uninitiated, but it’s not without its contradictions.

That said, positive puppy parenting is the universal order of the day: there’s no room in 2023 for harsh punishments or old-fashioned displays of dominance by macho types intent on proving who’s leader of the pack at any cost.
But if there’s agreement about the need for firmness, patience and consistency, there’s less consensus about the precise way of winning the undying trust and obedience of the cute furry rascal who’s rapidly threatening to destroy the family home if left to their own devices.

We’ve suddenly been plunged into unfamiliar conversations about crates and harnesses, recall, teething and socialisation – a whole new language to learn, it seems.
Food treats are an essential training tool, especially when a young labrador is involved, but isn’t good training all about engagement rather than bribery? And we don’t want super-sleek Ted to become overweight, either…
Yes, Teddy can (often) sit neatly on command, is learning to sleep through the night in his crate and has a smart new harness that is helping to prevent him pulling on the lead.

A couple of training sessions with professional dog trainer Liz are enough to demonstrate just how good he can be, even though now that he’s 17kg he can pull like a train on a conventional lead and we can’t afford to have him jumping up on strangers.
He’s still young and excitable, which is normal, but so eager to learn: as long as we can set time aside for that all-important training.
Talking of which, the sound of a muffled bell sounding at the front door reminds me of Teddy’s latest trick.
Toilet training bells sound like a bit of a gimmick, but the idea is simple enough: many dogs will bark or whine to let you know they want to go outside, so why not make it easier for them to tell you they need to go to the loo?

Great stuff. Teddy’s a quick learner and soon gets the idea. And we’ve made progress establishing that this isn’t just a request to go for a walk or to play in the park but a message with a much more clearly defined purpose.
When you live in a rented flat that’s carpeted with a puppy who’s bound to have an upset tummy from time to time, this is a game-changer we’re not going to take for granted.

There’s no time to lose to get Teddy fully engaged, to keep him from getting bored and picking up bad habits, and we owe him that time commitment, however challenging it can be at times.

One look at those imploring brown eyes is enough to know it’s the right thing to do, even if labradors are a little too good at the subtle art of imploring gazes to suit every occasion…
