KUJO FROM HELL....

Smooch, now seven weeks old

‘It’s an anxiety attack,’ stated the vet. I stared back at her.

‘What?!’

Her comment was made as we stood and watched my usually well-behaved seven week old puppy become a ‘Kujo’ from hell. We weren’t the only ones witnessing this scene; every single person in that waiting room, and their animals, were aghast at what we were seeing. Smooch was literally screaming out his discontent; you couldn’t hear yourself think! Highly agitated, not stopping for a second, he was clawing and snapping at anyone or anything near him. Because he’s still such a baby, I heard the ‘awww’s and ‘Poor wee tyke’s offered by the spectators. I couldn’t help but wonder what they’d be saying if he was a full grown, 100 lb pit.

I grabbed his blanket and threw it over him before picking him up. When a minute of soothing murmurs didn’t stop his struggling, my tone of voice changed.

‘Enough!’ I told him sternly, holding him tighter. ‘Enough!!’ I repeated louder. He calmed down a little; at least he stopped trying to throw himself out of my arms. The whines and yelping continued, although not quite so frantic.

We got through the examination and his first vaccination needle, helped by offering milk bones, which he loves. The vet mentioned his being more prone to illness because of being taken from his mother’s milk too early, but declared him healthy. Armed with de-worming tablets, a necessity for every puppy, I carried him out to the truck. He wouldn’t stay on the seat or floor, but crawled up onto my knee, then cuddled there, shaking and occasionally whining as we drove home, but otherwise not moving an inch. The minute we set foot inside the house he visibly relaxed. My playful, sweet-natured puppy was himself again.

I checked it out on the internet, of course. It’s called social anxiety and, fortunately, is easy enough to handle. It involves taking the puppy out of his home more and more often, slowly acclimatizing him to other places, people and things. Babying him during such an event is not good; stern words and manner are what does it. Good – that was my reaction anyway, so no guilt about scolding him while at the vet’s.

The next time I take him anywhere, I’ll include Grump in the outing. Smooch already watches and imitates Grump; eating when Grump eats, lying down when Grump does, sitting quietly beside him when waiting for treats. He couldn’t have a better mentor. Grump is gentle and calm, reacting well in any place or situation.

Later, I sat by the fire with Grump curled up beside me on the couch, and the puppy snoozing on a blanket beside my feet. As I studied him, I remembered how Bud had never got over his distaste of visiting the vet. The puppy already had one up on Bud; at least Smooch didn’t leave revenge pooh in the car as Bud often did!

As if he knew what I was thinking, Smooch lifted his head, looked up at me sleepily, stretched and yawned widely, then crawled closer and put his little nose down on my slipper. How could anyone stay upset at something as cute as that?

I know it will take time and patience but, as any animal lover will tell you, the effort pays off. In the end, a good dog is a joy to the master and a reward in itself, if only for the number of times a day it will make you SMILE.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.