Another Breakthrough: Summertime Fears
While we’re on a roll, let me add that we seem to have overcome Lilly’s fears of coming inside the house, only at night and only in the summer. It has been one of the most puzzling of her fears over the years.
While we’re on a roll, let me add that we seem to have overcome Lilly’s fears of coming inside the house, only at night and only in the summer. It has been one of the most puzzling of her fears over the years.
Once in a while, everyone gets stuck. Maybe it’s stress. Maybe fear. Maybe illness, in ourselves (or those around us). When friends face what we called “stress lock” back in my college days, I typically tell them this: “Action is always better than inaction.” In other words, do something … anything … to make progress, no matter how small.
We like to use all kinds of euphemisms to describe our fearful dogs. Shy, reactive, aggressive are common words we use, but what exactly does fear look like when it isn’t necessarily obvious that it’s fear?
Let’s continue our discussion about fearful dogs from a broader perspective. It’ll be VERY clear next week why I’m revisiting some of these key points. I promise, but for now, let’s talk mistakes.
Sing it with me, kids. I’m a woobie. He’s a woobie. She’s a woobie. Wouldn’t you like to be a woobie too? (Look at me dating myself again, with an obscure 1970s Dr. Pepper reference.)
Suddenly, Tom likes to take Lilly on little outings in his truck. It has no back seat or king cab or anything, and he isn’t keen on stuffing her crate in there with him, so I began my quest for a dog seatbelt harness thing.
Lilly and I sat side-by-side on the new bench. The veterinary hospital just underwent a major facelift, and the new built-in benches are bigger and nicer than the old ones. I kept her to my left to protect her swollen right cheek from this most recent rattlesnake bite. While we chatted with the veterinarian who was kind enough to squeeze us in first thing (and allowed us to avoid a MUCH more expensive trip to the doggie ER), Lilly leaned over and did that thing she does when she is either really happy or really nervous. She nibbled on my head.
Saturday, we stepped away from real life for just a bit to take our first hike of the season. Lilly isn’t quite as good as KB’s labs at posing for photos upon chosen peaks or rock outcroppings, but she tries.
A few weeks ago, one of Tom’s friends dropped by to chat. The boys stood out front for their conclave, and Lilly decided that Tom’s friend was her newest, very best friend. That’s quite a breakthrough for my fearful girl.
If it’s summer … it must mean that Lilly suddenly is terrified to come inside, but only in the evening. How many years now has this pattern emerged? Five, six years?