Pet Talk

by Cathy Davis
    It’s not always easy, being the mommy of a doggie with separation anxiety. My little doggie is a rescue doggie. A little over a year ago, he was running for a week before he was caught and brought to the shelter. Now I think I know why he was running. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
    This past week has been a little unusual in our household. My dog Scruffy is fortunate to have company all day long because my dad lives with my husband and I and my dad and Scruffy are great pals. Scruffy curls up on his grampy’s lap a good part of the day, sleeping soundly, spoiled rotten, and being generally at peace with the world.
    But this past week Scruff had to spend two whole hours alone in the house when my dad went to the dentist. And to Scruffy, there is nothing worse than being left alone.
    We had recently had some renovations done to our bathroom so the contents of the medicine cabinet were placed in a box and put in the spare bedroom. So when dad went to the dentist, Scruffy went to work. And I mean work. He could have been lazy and drug the box into the living room but no, Scruffy went into the bedroom and took one thing out of the box and took it to the living room and dropped it on the floor, back to the bedroom to get another item out of the box, and so on, until there were about 50 bottles of hand cream, tubes of toothpaste, dental floss, fingernail polish, tweezers, razors, deodorant, bath lotions and lip gloss all over the living room floor. He then proceeded to try to eat a razor, I don’t know how the heck he avoided a serious injury, and luckily he didn’t swallow it, and then he chased that adventure with a few Rolaids (I’d have heartburn too if I tried to eat a razor blade).
    My dad was home from the dentist around 3 p.m. I got home around 6 p.m. The mess was still on the floor, not because my dad was still hurting from his fall into the lake on Monday (a whole other story) but because he thought if he cleaned it up and told me about it, I wouldn’t believe him.
    So into the living room I march, and then I sit down on the floor because I’m laughing too hard to stand up. I finally gather myself and go into the kitchen where Scruffy is peeking at me from around the corner and I sit on the floor and call him to me and he slinks, you know the slink, the “I know I’ve been bad” slink, with the big brown eyes looking at me and I said to him, very quietly, “you were a very bad boy.” And then it happened. That poor dog peed right where he sat, rolled over on his back in total submission and made me cry. Somewhere, sometime in his life, this dog was either totally screamed at, or beaten, for making a mess when he was left alone, and to this day those memories stay with him. And my heart was broken.
    It’s just stuff people. If you leave your dog alone in your house all day and he chews the sofa, no, you’re not going to be all that happy. You might be downright ugly as a matter of fact, especially if it was a really beautiful expensive leather sofa or something. But it’s just stuff.
    Somewhere, sometime, somebody hurt my dog because he wrecked their stuff. I can tell that just by how he acts. He still gets into stuff, he has chewed coffee tables, cedar blanket chests, the trim on my wall, a foot stool, my plaster bunny, the ears off a resin deer, and if I thought long and hard, probably a dozen other things, but so what. If my stuff was more important than my dog, I wouldn’t have a dog.
    If you are in a situation where you have a pet that just can’t stand to be alone, and you have to leave him alone all day, there are ways to protect him, and your home, other than yelling, screaming, and physical punishment. And if all else fails, there is no shame in finding a new home for your pet so that someone with more time can give him the attention he needs. I have so much admiration for people who love their pets enough to know that another home would be better for him than their home.
    My stuff isn’t important to me. My family is important to me and my animals are important to me and the rest is just fluff, nice to have, but I can live without it or I can live with it being a little chewed, a little frayed, a little fuzzy. When I curled up last night and rolled over to go to sleep, Scruffy snuggled into my arms and gave me little wet kisses. You can have nice stuff if you want it, I’ll take my Scruffy dog and all his bad habits any day.
    If you are looking for a pet (hopefully a little better behaved than mine), there are so many wonderful animals available at the Shelter for adoption. Check us out on Facebook for adoption specials, waived fees, photos of available pets and more. Go to petfinder.com or our website for even more up-to-date information. For every dog like Scruffy there is a mommy like me just waiting to love him. Go to the Shelter and find the love of your life.
    Cathy Davis is a longtime volunteer for the Houlton Humane Society. She can be reached at houltonanimalshelter@gmail.com or 532-2345.