I think I have managed to cure Chicken of her separation anxiety by giving her a taste of her own medicine. Since she damaged the end of her tail I have been giving her extra cuddles and attention. She loved this to start with, but couldn’t quite understand why I was constantly following her about. Because I didn’t want her to keep hurting herself, and because I’m fed up of washing blood off the walls, I kept trying to hold her tail when she wagged it. (This doesn’t work, by the way. It just makes the bit available for wagging shorter and thus faster.)
After a full day of constant attention, she got up and went to lay on the floor. All by herself. I think I have smothered her separation anxiety out of her. When I went to the toilet I went on my own. When I went in the kitchen I went on my own. When I came down from upstairs, she wasn’t waiting at the foot of them. Obviously I was concerned, so went over to her to see if she was OK. She just sighed, got up and walked over to her bed away from me. I am so anxious about her not being anxious about being separated from me, that I keep going back to her for attention.
My extra attention to Chicken has also had an interesting affect on Monty. He’s now playing all the time with things he knows he shouldn’t be – like my handbag, TV remote and phone – and is attention seeking all the time. He’s being really affectionate as well, and keeps coming for cuddles. He lost control completely when I came in from shopping, and shredded my extra strong, long-handled shopping bag which I had been forced to buy since the 5p fine for carrier bags was introduced.
So to sum up:
- Chicken’s separation anxiety has been transferred to me.
- Monty is now attention seeking for the first time.
- The house is still covered in blood.
- I have no shopping bag.
I have a niggling feeling that this is a step backwards.
The Fairy
Greyhounds In Charge 