Dogs, Disorders and Drugs

Tinny survived the chocolate night very well. The next morning was the day before we were leaving for a weekend trip to the gulf coast.  At that house we had the most awesome neighbor kids who would come and take care of the dogs when we traveled.  They would come down to our house about every 3 – 4 hours and let the dogs out, play with them, care for them, etc.  They did all this for $10/day, no joke.  We always paid them much more than that, because they were worth it and we wanted to keep them happy.

Since the house was on the market however, we couldn’t risk any “Tinny antics” while we were away. The neighbor kid, Dylan, was actually our impromptu real estate agent (we had it FSBO).  If someone wanted to see the house while we were away he’d come down, prep everything (hide all the dog toys and blankets), turn on all the lights and some music, open all the blinds and even bake cookies just before the showing!  I’m not kidding – still $10/day.  God we’re gonna miss those kids at our new home.

So, Hayley (the good dog) was staying at home but Tinny was going to stay with Diane (Diane’s Canine School of Charm) out in the country.  We called it “prison” but really we think she had a ball.  Diane had a dog school 1/2 mile from our house, but she loaded the dogs up and drove them 45 minutes out to the country where she had lots of land and room for the dogs to run and play.  Tinny always came home from Diane’s exhausted and filthy.

So Thursday morning I awoke early to check on Tinny following the chocolate night. She was resting soundly on the couch, saw me and hopped up, ready for the day. We did our usual routine – dogs outside, eat treats, eat breakfast, etc.  Then I walked over to the couch where Tinny had wadded up the dog blanket into a ball in the middle of the couch.  I picked it up to shake it out and it was soaked… with urine, which was also now all in the center of the couch.

Let me re-cap: we’re in the middle of buying a new house, trying to sell ours, packing, but keeping our house clean and show-ready, and we’re getting ready to go out of town the next day.  We just spent several hours and hundreds of bucks at the emergency clinic the night before and are planning to catch up this morning.  Do I need to say that I lost it?  I did.

Ryan came wandering down the stairs in time to see my head burst into flames as I shouted: Get that dog out of this house right now!!!  Without hesitation he had her loaded in the car and Tinny got to go to prison a day early.  In hindsight, and in fairness, we should have checked on her throughout the night to see if she needed to go outside.  So we’ll share that one with her.

The funny thing is that as maddening as she can be it’s so obvious that there is no malice or spite… I don’t even consider it “bad behavior” anymore. I believe that Tinny has a disorder.  When people are around she is kind and loving and attentive.  Everyone that meets her adores her.  But she can not stand to be by herself, not for 5 minutes.  We’ve tried setting up cameras to record her actions when we leave.  She spares NO time getting started on her pillaging.  We aren’t even out of the driveway before she’s up on the kitchen counters or nosing through garbage cans or any other thing she’s not allowed to do when we’re home.

So, the moment the vet at the emergency clinic said the words “you should get her on drugs for separation anxiety” we looked at each other and went… there are drugs for that??  Tell us more!  Doggie downers, indeed – why Tinny, there may be hope for you yet, sister!

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