When your Therapy Dog needs Therapy

Sit, my boy. Talk to me, bubbeleh (little darling one)

Anyone who regularly reads this space knows about Gatsby, our stunning rescue dog we adopted. He immediately filled our hearts with furry, snuggly, puppy love. Gatsby, he is a special being. While we rescued him, he certainly recaptured our ‘dog-loving’ hearts right back. He is our little boychik (sweet boy) who has brought us all such nachas (pride and gratification, usually through one’s kinder (children)) and expanded our family in a very healthy way.

He is the most amazing dog for us all… and, pretty early on, we realized our zeiseh punim (sweet faced) man suffered from terrible bouts of anxiety and tsuris (grief, heartache). He is a neurotic ‘Vincent van Gogh – Woody Allen – Adele’ wrapped inside (in our case) women’s best friend.  His early months on the planet had left him traumatized – and with no canine fidget spinners in sight, we experienced some tough behaviors together.  Horrible separation anxiety, excessive chewing, leash reactiveness at the sight of any dog or cat, over-zealous obsession (OCD) with squirrels, birds, noises, and lights in the parking lot… you name it, and he felt it! He was farshluggineh (shaken, mixed up) and a bit, well, meshuggeneh (crazy)

Did you hear that? I heard something… Did you hear that?

We tried training, and this boy, our four legged smarty pants, could sit, give a paw, high five and lie down (My Mrs., she homeschooled him)! We added in rescue remedy, a tight fitting ThunderShirt, DAP (dog appeasing pheromones), calming canine music, exhaustive walks – and bubkes (nothing), no change in our meshuggeneh (crazy) mutt.

Our therapy dog, he needs therapy. You all already know I’m a mess, ergo, I blog for catharsis! Now my boy, we need to help him! He is proof that stress and anxiety knows no discrimination: rich, poor, man, woman, old, young, sick, healthy, feline or canine!

I was beginning to think our little man of the house needed a little chemistry to help him along. All he wants to do is please us, yet he is plagued with such shpilkes (anxiety). Oy vey!

My Mrs., she took him to the vet to talk about this new wrinkle in his care. At first, they were a bit skeptical. Then they witnessed him going batshit bonkers over a painting of a dog on the wall. Next, it became difficult to take blood – his fur was flying at the thought of being at the vet’s office. He was shrekn (terrorized with fear) and the doc, she saw what we knew. She put a muzzle on my poor boychik’s face and carried on with the exam. We left with some Trazadone to calm him and a prescription for Prozac.

The Trazadone worked wonders. He would calm, without being at all lethargic. We needed this while the Prozac built up in his system. About a month in, he is doing much better. He still prefers we stay together (as do we) and never leave him behind. He still barks outside, but he is not inconsolable. We can deflect behaviors. Riding in the car is greatly improved.

Our glass is half full. Thank you momma’s – I feel so much better.

I share this with you all because, much like 2-legged people, sometimes our 4-legged friends need a little help. I did some research and found that about 30% of dogs exhibit some form of canine anxiety. Like any of my other kinder, we will do whatever it takes to take care of him. Our CVS fills the prescription with a pseudo-affordable generic. When his Rx is ready, they call out, “Gatsby!” Medication is not always the answer, but in our case, we are grateful for such a solution.

Not everyone the dogs bark at is a thief. Nit yederer oif vemen hunt bilen iz a ganev.

also:

Who finds a faithful friend, finds a treasure. Vas finds a gatray fraynd, finds a autsr.

We have found a treasure indeed!

      

      

  

 

Summer: Leaps of faith

The greatest mistake is fearing to make one. Di greste grayz iz mura tsu makhn eyn.

This one, he’s fearless!

This is what summer is all about.

      

    

He’s Gone… I got him!

After the run, my Gatsby is tired. Thank you, Benny!

He’s meditating on whether a flea has a bellybutton. Er klert tsi a floy hot a pupik.

      

 

 

Curiosity!

A person should stay alive, if only out of curiosity. A mensch zol blaybn lebedik, aoyb nor aoys fun naygerikayt.

Childhood!

Small children don’t let you rest. Big children don’t let you sleep. Kleyn kinder ton nit lozn ir mnukkh. Groys kinder ton nit lozn gay shlofn.

Childhood!

Thank you to J, Z and E for an amazing time at the Tyler Arboretum. ❤ Many more good times ahead!

 

     

      

 

Looks like summer

Birthplace: EARTH, Race: HUMAN, Politics: FREEDOM, Religion: LOVE

Some things will forever and always smell, taste, hint to the glimpses of summer. Freshly cut grass. Watermelon. The sun on your back. Swings. A skinned knee. The hint of chlorine. Mosquitoes. Bikes. Dirt. Ice Cream. And laughter. There must always be laughter.

Let’s all hope this summer is a good one, a safe one, and a healthy one for us all, filled with more laughter. ❤

Life is like a child’s undershirt–short and soiled. Dos leben iz vi kinderhemdel–kurts un bash.

At least for my Little, above!

      

  

Playtime

Do you like my new dress?
I do. Mine is new too. Now let’s play already.

A cutie pie showing off her new dress.  A maidel mit a klaidel.

 

      

      

 

 

My morning Boy

Umm, hello? Are we going outside, or what?

Shana punim (beautiful face)

Who could say no to this face?

You know there is a Yiddish proverb for Gatsby:

Lozn a hunt aoyf a shtul aun er vet shpringen afn tish.  Allow a dog on a chair and he’ll jump on the table.