The news on Hobbit is good and not so bad. The appointment with Dr. Adler went well. She found no sign of neurological trouble. She hesitated to prescribe tranquilizers along with Fluoxetine. We share her concerns. We don’t give our dogs any medication without reserve due to side effects. But in extreme situations, we make the best educated choice. 

The past week, I’ve reflected on Hobbit’s situation. His anxiety amps with the slightest change in routine. I made a mental list of changes in our lives that might have affected him and we’re trying to reinstate what was lost. Scott had taken a break from dog classes so he’s signing up for one to deal with Hobbit’s noise issues. Small things make a difference like letting Hobbit back up in my chair while I type, for a few minutes of stroking. I had covered the office window to prevent Ella’s barking at everyone who passed by. But Hobbit likes to stare out that window while I work, so I took the cover off.

Every evening Scott takes Hobbit to the dogpark or for a car ride if it rains. We’re seeing small improvements in Hobbit’s behavior. In the office, he’s back to curling up in his chair by the window. He’s not scanning the ceilings as much and he comes in the kitchen for water. The yard is still scary. Every noise sends him running for the door. The Fluoxetine won’t take affect for at least thirty days.  I’m saving the tranquilizers for days when Hobbit is so scared his heart thumps against his chest and no amount of soothing helps.

I wonder how Hobbit’s condition relates to people with mental illnesses that include paranoia. Maybe someday they’ll label dogs like Hobbit mentally ill. It’s too bad dogs can’t benefit from psychotherapy, but that’s where animal behaviorists step in.  I’m still daunted by the responsibility of having a dog that requires this degree of care. But I’m also humbled by what Hobbit is teaching me about tolerance and kindness.