I have a confession to make.
I hate it when my Mama leaves the house. She works at home as a freelance writer, so I get to spend a lot of time with her… But when she leaves, it makes me very sad. I stand and wait for her at the window, and look very sad. I watch her as she drives away, and I think it makes her feel guilty.
Fortunately, I do not have separation anxiety. Or at least I don’t think I do. I don’t cry or bark and annoy the neighbors. I don’t urinate or poop in the house – cuz I am mostly potty trained now … most of the time. I don’t destroy toys or chew on furniture out of distress.
Nope, I don’t make a peep… Until she comes home. (I kinda go crazy when Mama comes up. I get on my hind legs and bark and want her to pick me up. Then I run and get a stuffed toy and force her to play fetch with me for a few minutes. I get very excited.)
This is what I do instead…
I sleep and dream of the day that my Mama will come home to me. The days, minutes, hours… It all seems like a long time to me. So I sleep a lot.
And if I hear a car sound, then I run back to the window and I wag my tail and get all excited.
I may be a spoiled pooch, but I don’t have emotional disorders like other dogs.
I know my Mama loves me, and I know she will come home.