Reese, the Neurotic Wonder Dog

 My dog is a bit neurotic. I'm not exactly sure when it started, but I can say with certainty that we are there.

With her security blanket

She's developed a serious case of FOMO - Fear Of Missing Out. We can be sitting on the couch, side by side, her snoring contentedly while stretched out on her half of the sofa, and I'll get up for some water, to stretch, to get a snack, or to use the john, and suddenly she's wide awake, her head on a swivel, wondering what's going on, who's attacking, what's there to eat and why didn't she know about it beforehand. I can tell her to stay, to relax, that I'll be right back, but she'll hop down, possibly do a (literal) Downward Dog or two, and follow me to the kitchen, the pantry, or down the hall to the bathroom. If I dare to put up the baby gate to keep her from free-range snacking in the cat's litter box (gag), she will whine, pout, and randomly go back and forth from the couch to the gate, afraid of missing something or that the toilet might not free me to return to her side. 

Speaking of toilet humor, she is an anxious potty-er. She will not go #2 or #1 without some one sitting on the porch, preferably, or just being outside, at a minimum, with her. She will stand in the grass and wait until I sit down because standing means I might leave her at a moment's notice. Sitting means staying, and staying means she can take her time to do her business how she wants, with leisure, the only thing missing being the sports section. 

We had to kennel her a few months back. Reese simply would not go. Finally, the owner went outside with Reese, just the two of them, and she sat down, cross-legged, and waited for Reese to do her excrementitious work. Finally, success. What else can you do except pat her on the head and call her a good girl, this reinforcing both the good behavior (not dropping a deuce on our living room rug) and the bad (needing an audience). 

She also does this thing where she will start licking herself. Maybe it began as a small itch, a scratch that needed scratching, or an irritation that needed to be soothed, but she will lick like her leg or side or paw is a Tootsie Roll Pop and she's hunting for the magic center. But, if I place.my hand alongside her head, perhaps along the snout, or further up the head, towards the ear, or even under her chin, and using gentle pressure move her head while also stroking her, she calms down and leans into my hand. It's like watching a husband touch his wife's cheek, and then she places her hand over his and presses it close, both loving the warmth of the hand and relishing the soft skin-to-skin contact that says, "I got you, babe," while a Sonny & Cher soundtrack plays in the background. 

With Reese, there's no soundtrack, but occasionally those big, brown eyes will roll up at me and she tries to push back, to go back to her licking. Then, I'll lift her head back up, tell her it's alright, that I just need a quick cup of coffee and will be right back. But then the eyes say, "But, will you?" And, just for a moment, I decide that, nah, the coffee can wait, and I rub my neurotic dog's back, shoulders and neck until she dozes off, curled into a tight cinnamon-roll bundle. 

I'll be right back, I say, and sneak into the kitchen, fill my cup, and sneak back to sit next to her. After all, I don't want her to go somewhere without me, either. FOMO and all...