Anxiety Squared

Not the best day. Monday. About mid-morning, I locked myself in a small, dark room and fought off an anxiety attack. I had to. With a feature article deadline looming and several more in the wings, my day, my week, boasted no room for a breakdown. So, when Lilly seemed not herself Monday afternoon, I assumed she mirrored my mood.

I was wrong.

But, I didn’t know I was wrong for several more hours. Instead, I gave Lilly an as-needed xanax. Remember, she no longer gets it in addition to antidepressants twice a day every day for her fears / anxiety.

I figured with her annual wellness exam later that day … better safe than sorry.

I also dosed her with benadryl before we drove down off the mountain in advance of the lepto vaccine we planned to give. We have to give her vaccines individually over time to mitigate bad vaccine reactions (lumps, fever, lethargy).

To keep us both in the coping zone, I also played all three Music to Calm Your Canine Companion CDs over and over all day long. I even brought one along in the car. There is a special extra CD for in the car because they fear the regular ones might make drivers fall asleep, but because we often listen to the CDs while I work, I knew I’d be OK. And, I thought Lilly could use the extra help.

Lilly did great when we arrived at the veterinary hospital:

Maybe it was the counter-conditioning work we’d done in recent months, after her full-on panic attack in the very same parking lot.

Maybe it was the drug cocktail.

I gave her the chance to potty. We walked along the nearby railroad tracks to stretch our legs after the canyon drive. (Thankfully, no trains going by blowing their horns.)

And, I swung her through the side entrance to the parking lot so that she didn’t have that Scared-Dog-Walking sensation of approaching the door to the hospital straight on. It worked because she didn’t flinch when she realized we were headed inside.

Lilly baulked a bit after getting through the air-lock-style double doors into the lobby, but she easily hopped onto the scale, sat, and waited for me to read her perfect 33 pounds to the veterinary technician.

Lilly POKED a man waiting in the lobby (hand targeted him … a way for shy dogs to greet new people), and she POKED the technician who escorted us to our exam room.

We settled into the newly remodeled room. Me on the new built in bench. Lilly on the floor below me.

Quite a picture (except I forgot my camera).

Two remarkably relaxed girls, considering the day we’d had (and were going to have). Only Lilly had a chemical assist.

Smug, I was — sitting there looking at my fearful girl, completely relaxed in a potentially scary setting. Sure, she crinkled her brow when she heard dogs walk by, bark, or generally fuss on the other side of the doors (one to the lobby, one to the hospital’s back area).

But, Lilly looked happy and calm.

It wasn’t until she gazed up at me in that drunken “I love you, Man” way that I realized she was essentially stoned out of her mind from the combination of xanax and benadryl.

It’s a good thing, considering what happened next.

***

The rest of the story of our latest veterinary emergency next week. It all started with lump in Lilly’s neck.

If you are new to our tales, Lilly is also famous for once eating 130 nontoxic-my-@$#@ paintballs and tangling with rattlesnakes.