The Meltdown

The whole family had a difficult summer and fall. My father, who was diagnosed with metastatic melanoma last year, went for a 3 month checkup in July 2007 and they found lesions on his brain. I drove the dogs from Maine to Cape May New Jersey, to help my mother and family care for him as he underwent radiation and a trial drug therapy. He died August 23. We were devastated, and the dogs looked after us well. I took family medical leave to stay with my mother, and we were in Cape May with her two cats until October. The dogs like Cape May, and they love my mother, and the cats became part of their "pack." When we moved back to Maine and I returned to work, they adjusted pretty well to their life at home, but they loved loved loved it when "Grandma" and the cats came to live with us for 6 weeks. Having someone who loved them stay home and keep them company?? Having cats to curl up with and play with? What could be better.

We all weathered our first Christmas without my father and a long drive to Florida, where my mother lives for the winter. The dogs love her condo, especially the lanai. The pack had expanded to include my girlfriend, whom they adore. She had spent the end of December with us in the ice storm, gone with us to Cape May for Christmas, and had met us in Florida for two weeks. We all survived the plane ride home from Florida. And then, when the semester began in mid-January and life returned to "normal"--no grandma in the guest room, no girlfriend at home, no cats in the dog beds, and mom back at work--Stella had a meltdown.

She developed separation anxiety, which she had never exhibited before, and her noise phobias snowballed. New household sounds, such as the baseboard heaters pinging, sent her into full-blown panic. She paced, panted, and trembled. She vocalized when I left the house. She developed anxiety about coming to bed at night, when the heater noises seemed unbearable and sent her flying for cover downstairs. She chose a safe place in the living room, under a table at the far end of the couch, and began to spend hours there. Sleeping at night with a panicked dog was becoming difficult, and leaving Stella in the morning was heart-wrenching. I had to make an appointment with my vet, even though we were scheduled to see Dr. Dodman at Tufts 10 days later. We needed help NOW.