When we first brought him home at 8 weeks, he refused to sleep alone. I mean he literally refused....if he was left in the laundry or the family room or anywhere.....he would cry all night long....way worse than any newborn baby. And he would pace.......back and forth......constantly......until his paws were so sore he could hardly manage to walk the next day.
We managed to get past this stage.....and finally get some sleep.....by doing what all the experts say not to do.....we gave up! He has slept happily with Master 15 ever since...an arrangement which suits them both very well.
He was also prone to react negatively when left alone....even for short periods of time...like bathroom stops. This reaction usually took the form of a bathroom stop of his own, and a steaming turd being left at your point of exit. He has improved but even now, at almost 2, he still leaves his offensive calling card at times.
All is well in his world if he is sitting on you.....this is his favourite option, next to you....this usually involves gradually turning into the first option, within a metre of you.....and alert for any movement you may make, or at the very least within sight of you......this is the last resort, done when sleeping, usually with one eye open.
So as you can imagine, things get very difficult should we dare to go away for a few days.
We don't usually dare.....as a result we have only left him for more than a day, twice in the last 2 years.
The first time he came home exhausted...he proceeded to sleep for the next 48 hours....his feet were sore (from his pacing) and his nose was cut....we assume from pacing with it stuck under the bottom of his door. He had a delightful case of diarrhoea and was generally pissed off at us for leaving him.
So it was with a large degree of trepidation that we left him this last weekend.
When we picked him up the cheery girl on the desk exclaimed how wonderful he had been and went to get him. He was out like a desperate criminal on death row in sight of his only chance of escape....no pause to meet and greet....he made a beeline for the front door.....and nothing was going to stand in his way....not even said door!
Once in the car he fell asleep....immediately.
I could tell he was lighter and he attacked his food like a starving man....which I guess he was.
Then he went to bed...and slept.....and slept.....and slept.
On the few occasions he woke it was to lick ferociously at his feet....which were obviously very sore (again)....and he limped along.....refusing to go anywhere near the gravel path.
This morning he is a little better, though still subdued.....he managed to bark at his nemesis.....the cat from next door....but without his usual gusto.
He wanted to come in the car when I took Master 15 to work.....but he slept....even when I opened the window....a trigger for ecstatic face in the wind behaviour.....usually.
He is sulky and standoffish, doesn't want to look you in the eye...but don't you dare leave the room.
He's not licking his feet so much....just everything else...the carpet....the windowsill....the table leg....a wooden box.....
I do believe he has lost the plot...and his neurotic behaviour is heading swiftly into psychotic.
I refuse to accept that having a dog means you can never go anywhere, ever again....but it sure feels like it at the moment.
We have a three week holiday planned for November....so stay tuned....
|Happy to be home...but not happy!|
In a postscript to this post...in the last hour Buster has bitten a hole in the carpet and peed on it to boot....he is currently exiled to the back yard...with no plans for an early release. He may want to plead insanity.....but I've a feeling he'll be found guilty on all counts with the motive of good old fashioned revenge!
I on the other hand am almost certainly losing my mind....