One Paranoid Beagle

I haven’t had a good Baxter post in a while. He’s been a real pill of late, I think. He is always super paranoid about us leaving him behind to go somewhere, whether to work or merely stepping out in the yard for five seconds. He does NOT want to be left behind ever for any reason! He’s always been skittish about people leaving a room. There could be 56 people in a room and if one steps out for a smoke he panics and whimpers by the door for that person to come back, possibly believing everyone else is soon to follow. He seems to constantly sense that he’s about to be left behind once more. If I so much as go to put on a pair of socks he knows it’s the first step in him being left behind.

Unfortunately, merely coming along doesn’t raise his spirits much either. He’s still often paranoid in the car that the destination may not be favorable. If I give in and bring him to work, he stares at me and whimpers for hours on end. If I tie him out in the yard while I’m doing yard work he stares at me and whimpers. Even if he’s dropped off at BFF Eli’s house to play he still seems paranoid that I won’t be back for a really long time to pick him up.

In fact the only times he ever seems content are when he’s going to daycare or when we’re out for a jog, then he’s out leading the way prancing along gaily, greeting passersby and peeing on trees with utter delight. We’ll return to the house and he immediately seems sad again.

Maybe I am partially to blame for his oddities, constantly teasing him about imaginary squirrels in the yard, or feeding him human food straight from the dinner table, or making him wear Christmas sweaters totally out of season. He’s a very good dog but it seems obvious he has some severe abandonment issues.

This morning Lauren and I went out to run errands in the morning and put Hound in his crate for about two hours. When we returned home we were surprised to find he had obliterated his crate door, which had somewhat backfired on him as it collapsed back inside the crate, giving him even less room to sit. The wooden crate was a fine idea and certainly stood up to his shenanigans better than the old metal crate, but it was only a matter of time before he’d break it.