A week and a half ago, our dog Abby got in a lot of trouble for pooping on the living room rug. I just can't abide poo where it doesn't belong - it drives me insane. I was very upset and forbid her from sleeping in the bed with us anymore, since she used that as a way to sneak around while we were asleep and drop a deuce in the house. I wouldn't talk to her all morning. I got over it, though, by that evening when I delivered a delicious pizza to my husband's office and she was there, too. No cold shoulder. I thought everything was ok between us, but I was wrong. The next morning, she lunged and snapped at me in my own bed. She had me backed into a corner and I screamed for help, but JKR couldn't hear me because he was too busy talking to himself in the shower. He talks to himself in the shower. It was a terrifying moment and it was clear that the dog was never going to be better.
By the end of the day, her violent behavior was being explained away with "well, she DOES have an ear infection" - so it's not like I was going to be allowed to sell her to the Chinese restaurant based on poundage. I called yet another recommended specialist who deals extensively with show dogs, aggressive dogs and the incorrigible. She diagnosed Abby with status aggression and said that while there are triggers at times, the aggression is primarily based upon the dog's perception of the situation, making it completely unpredictable because the dog is insane. It's inherited aggression that can't be trained out of her and in order to guarantee the safety of those around the dog, she should be medicated. So, Abby's back on prozac. She is also being returned to the no-kill shelter from whence she came right after the election. I was ready to give her my car keys and let her drive herself back to New Hampshire (where my husband was living when he adopted her), but she can't drive a stick and JKR won't give up his wheels - says he "needs" them.
While I may seem like a terrible person for forcing him to give up this dog that's been with him for 2 and a half years, I'd like to defend myself by saying she has snapped at house guests and his co-workers, has bitten my husband (the only man she loves), hates going outside for walks, won't play, doesn't cuddle, will poop anywhere, hates other dogs, can't play in the park and enjoys nothing in life. So, I'm a terrible person for other reasons, but not this. She is basically a smelly, depressed blob that we feed, but can't enjoy. My mother said that to distract him from his sadness, I need to give him a baby. I'm not sure that's a truly altruistic answer on her part, but I think he'd rather just have another dog. When he was initially expressing how upset he was for forty five seconds he then perked up and said "can I get another dog?" so I think it'll be fine once she's gone and he remembers what it's like to have a decent night's sleep and a car that doesn't smell like pooch sphincter.
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