Don’t Leave Me!

Most of the time when I’m going somewhere farther than next door or down the road, the dawg goes with me. She’s as used to riding in the truck as I am driving it. She expects to go wherever I’m going and all I have to do is open the door and she jumps right in. She knows all the routines of a truck ride, knows she’ll have to wait a few minutes while I run in the store or the library, but also knows that wherever it is, she’ll get the chance to get out and sniff around, “read the newspaper” and have a pleasant, leisurely walk around. That’s most of the time, but occasions arise when she can’t tag along with me and has to stay at home by herself. She’s never locked up in the house, can go out or come in through her dog door, free to spend the time alone chasing armadillos around the yard or dozing inside the house. My guess is, she spends most of that time sitting in the driveway watching for my return.

Farina has a separation complex. People usually talk about that condition in relation to young children, but dogs can have it just as bad. The magazine, Psychology Today says that a separation complex is a normal stage in an baby’s development, that it helped keep our ancestors alive and helps children learn how to master their environment. It usually ends at around age two. To deal with the problem, experts say you should stay calm, be matter-of-fact and sympathetic and that you might say something like, “I know you are upset that I have to go into the kitchen, but I need to cook dinner.” Yeah, if it were only that simple. I’m not sure how it works with young children but I got a lot of experience with the problem in my dog.

In Farina’s case there are only two sides of being left alone: depression and ecstasy. The first happens when it becomes clear that I’m going somewhere and she isn’t, the second when I come home from wherever. It’s pretty hard for me to walk away from the look that comes over Farina when she realizes I’m about to leave her alone. She never follows me to the door, never whines, just retreats to one of her spots, lays her head on the floor and stares at me with big sad eyes. I suspect she stays in that same spot for a while brooding. I try not to stay away for more than a couple of hours but whether it’s two hours or twice as long, when I get home she goes into a frenzy of happiness and relief, jumping up on me, running circles around me, bouncing, dashing off for a spin around the house and yard, back again to jump on me some more.

Unlike a human child, I sort of doubt my dog will ever overcome her separation complex. I should blame myself for nurturing that fear of being apart from her master, but then I also have not fear but regret at being away from my dog. I spend so much time with her at my side that I too am uncomfortable when she’s not there. Lately she has started something new involving closeness. Never anxious when I shoot my .22 rifle or one of the BB guns (just the opposite), when one of my neighbors starts firing a high-powered pistol or rifle, it spooks Farina and if she doesn’t retreat to the bedroom closet, then she presses right up against me, lays across my feet or stands against my leg. Last New Year’s eve she lay tightly against me shivering while the fireworks boomed hour after hour. Maybe I should buy her one of those thunder coats they say soothes a dog during times of loud booms and thunder.

Though I like my dog every bit just the way she is, I do kind of hope she outgrows her fear of being left alone. At almost 4-years-old, she’s no longer a baby.