Times are changing. 

Kids have gone back to school, people are leaving their homes after a long time at home, and the dogs aren’t happy.

Let’s talk about separation anxiety.

A lot of folks got new puppies early in the lockdown and are now leaving them for the first time.  Others had dogs who were known for separation anxiety, but have done very well with the family home all summer. Still, others weren’t able to lockdown at all, and their dogs continued to suffer.

Note I said, “suffer.”  Yes, I know that you share the suffering, coming home to a couch that’s been eaten, or walls chewed through, or a wet, poo-covered dog in a crate.  But the sooner we start thinking about separation anxiety correctly, the sooner we can get to the bottom of the issue and start climbing up the other side.

It’s a phobia.

Your dog isn’t “being bad,” or “acting out” when you leave him.  He’s phobic about being abandoned, and you’re abandoning him every day.  You know you’re coming home, but he doesn’t.  And don’t bother trying to figure out the source of the phobia (he was left at a shelter, or he was abused by the former owner), because this happens to dogs that you’ve had since they were tiny puppies, who have never been abused or abandoned. 

I’ve never been attacked by a spider, but I’m arachnophobic.  It’s not logical.  I know there are only two spiders in Ohio that can actually hurt me, and the giant wolf spider with his hideous red eyes is more scared of me than I am of him (this is not actually true).  Doesn’t matter.  I’m not going near him.

So let’s think about your dog’s phobia in those terms.

Your dog feels about being left alone the same way I feel about a bunch of big hairy spiders.  Zero stars. Do not recommend it.

Most of the time that’s fine, at least for me.  I don’t live in Australia (do NOT look up Huntsman spiders online…just don’t.  I warned you), and I can usually avoid spider-intensive situations in my daily life. 

Your dog can’t.

His phobia happens every day when you walk out that door and lasts however long you’re gone.  And it will happen again tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow.  It’s like locking me in a room full of big hairy spiders.

You might throw him a Kong full of peanut butter and wonder why it doesn’t work, but honestly, what would it take for me to be fine with a roomful of big hairy spiders?  Is Kong full of peanut butter? Thundershirt?  CBD oil?  No way.  You’d have to drug me unconscious to make it okay.  To fix the problem, we have to conquer the fear.

In the next post, we’ll talk about how we approach this phobia, but the first key is to recognize it for what it is.  A true phobia that makes no sense, but is no less terrifying for being illogical. 

Your dog doesn’t want to chew through his cage and break his teeth, or dig the plastic tray until his nails bleed.  He doesn’t want to pee and poo and sit in it all day.  He doesn’t want to pant until his crate is a puddle of drool.  But he can’t control his reaction to his worst fear coming true every day. 

And the sooner we realize this, the sooner we can start working together to make his life a little less terrifying.