captainsblog | Never Give Up! Never Surrender! (Reply)

We are about to enter our 35th year of being furparents. Nine cats, three dogs, and I’m not counting the assorted fish or amphibians that resided in tanks from time to time. All were rescued, or came from people we knew. Of the ones that have crossed Rainbow Bridge, all but two lived well into their teens and had long and happy lives with us and with each other. They’ve included our first dog Tasha, who came to us from a very bad previous life (it took a year before she would even sit on the sofa with us). They also included the most recently departed evil cat Michelle, sister from another mister to Biggsy, the only adult we ever lost too soon; he and Evil Cat came as a pair that they said were inseparable (but that was probably just a ploy to get her out of somebody’s house). For over 15 years, she yowled at us, peed on things, generally annoyed the shit out of everybody. We never gave up, and only let her go when she was well past 18 and everything was failing. Rescue is for life, and you get what you get.

Now, though, we’re facing our first crisis of at least confusion with the dog that’s been with us for a little over four years. Until sometime late last year, we had few if any issues with Pepper. She’s not an escape artist, doesn’t destroy clothing or other things left laying around, and she’s fine with everyone she meets, whether human, feline or canine. After all, why wouldn’t she take advantage of a good deal? In her short first two years of life, best as we can tell, she went from an unknown puppyhood, to being rescued on the streets of the city of Buffalo, before she was even fixed, then adopted out to a couple who, at least at the end, kept her crated alone in a hot Allentown apartment for 8 to 14 hours a day. So coming to live with a couple of suckers, who give her run of the house, daily walks and weekly extended excursions, and lots of love and attention? What’s the problem with that?

Yet apparently there is one. Since Eleanor has been home full-time, and especially over the past few weeks, she has made it virtually impossible for my wife to have a life when I’m at work, and neither of us has been able to enjoy any kind of evening entertainment. Pepper whines, stares and constantly plays the “in and out game” at the back door.

She has not been to a trainer, but we’ve talked with one who gave us what we thought were good ideas to give her more stimulation and distractions and to learn the value of “money,“ Trainer Alicia‘s term for the better treats or play experiences to get her in line. It hasn’t worked. We experimented with doggy daycare to see if that would provide stimulation, without much benefit for the cost. And yes, as George Carlin would say, we’ve tried “two in the mouth.” For about three months, she’s been on a twice daily dosing of Trazodone, an anxiety med with a drowsiness side effect. It seemed to not be working terribly well, so one of our human therapists actually suggested switching to a generic version of Prozac, since it seemed to work well for her furbabies. We started that yesterday morning, and by the time we turned in it turned out to be one of the worst days with her we’ve ever had. All the behaviors were amplified, and Eleanor could not get through an online meeting in the morning, or us through Only Murders in the Building, on account of her endlessly* whining and marching around all agitated. We switched back to the Trazodone this morning, which seemed to help if making her dopier than we care for; we've reached back out to the trainer who worked with Tasha in her early anxious days with us; and we're open to just about any other medication, addition or suggestion to her routine that will give us back these missing hours of our lives.

Could it be something physical? I suppose, but it's not making her get up in the middle of the night, or affecting her appetite, or adopting any other negative behaviors. More likely it's a reaction to the change in Eleanor's routine, from being away 30 hours a week to 20 to eight and now only when she's got doctor's appointments or occasional errands. She's as empathetic as every other aminal we've had, and I'm sure she senses the pain and frustration coming from Mommy when she's not able to do the things outside that she loves and needs.

We've got to get through this, but giving up is not an acceptable solution. We made it through eight losses of furry life, numerous temporary escapes, all kinds of medical problems and the endless routines of vaccinations and treatments and cleanups of their nether products. I was even ready to bail on my baseball adventure next weekend out of concern that the dog would act out too much in the day-plus of me being away. Eleanor has encouraged me to go, and I think I will unless things take a much bigger turn for the worse between now and a week from Saturday.

Until then, it's one day at a time.

----

* Siri's also still giving us problems: I dictated much of this entry on our walkies this morning, and when I said "her endlessly," the phone spat it back as "her and Leslie." Great; now I'm getting famous misheard Young Rascals lyrics from her:P