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Separation Anxiety

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Oh, hello blog. I hope I did not lose any of my dedicated readers (all ten of you). I was on vacation down in the land of the South and then I got lazy for a while when I got back. Inexcusable, I know, but that’s my excuse.  The plan to visit the ‘Rents for 4th o’ July had been in the works for a while, but it wasn’t until about 2 weeks prior to departure that we realized we would have to do something with Moriarty. I immediately set out to scour Yelp for all the dog kennels in Chicago. Some were straight up ridiculous (“Upgrade your pup to an executive suite for just $20 more per night”) and almost all had at least a few horror stories in their reviews. The anxiety began to set in.

I probably wouldn’t argue if you said that we are attached to our dog perhaps to an unhealthy level, but that’s just the way it is. I convinced myself that leaving him for 4 nights would send the clear message to him that we no longer loved him and had abandoned him forever. Now, I don’t know if a dog would even be able to think at that level, but that didn’t make the worry any less. We finally settled on a boarding joint recommended by a friend, that was modest in price and “suites,” but seemed to have a dedicated and caring staff, with plenty of Facebook pictures to prove their dogs aren’t chained to trees all day and fed rats. We dropped off Arty a couple hours before take off, and I would be lying if I said the look he gave us as he walked down the hall didn’t stick with me the entire time we were gone. I know, I know, I make myself sick with this ridiculousness, but I can’t help it. Texas, meanwhile, was great. We enjoyed the company of family, and more importantly, visited more than once the home of the best donuts IN THE WORLD.

When we got back into town we rushed to the kennel, cursing the Chicago traffic the whole time, and ran through the doors, envisioning some sort of movie-scene leap into arms reunion. As it was, it took them about five minutes to get our dog away from his puppy friends, and when he saw us, he was clearly a little confused. This just confirmed my fears that he had believed he was abandoned forever. Actually, after the 30-minute car ride home, he slowly came around to remembering us, and becoming the same great/crazy pet he was when we dropped him off.  Pictures from the kennel proved he was perfectly content while we were gone, and all the anxiety was probably just one-sided.

On a terribly sad note, we got word last night that Moriarty’s best friend from the neighborhood, a 9 month old bull mastif puppy, that was about 12 times his size, died of some sudden onset crazy respiratory virus. We were sad all night, and still are, even though he was not our dog. It also put into perspective that it is not embarrassing (well, not THAT embarrassing) to worry and fuss over and love our pup like we do, because if that had happened to him, we would be heartbroken.  That is all, I will be back to blogging about bacon etc. tomorrow. I apologize for the absence. Here’s a bonus lovely picture of Chicago skyline taken by The Wife to make up for it.

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