Depression isn’t contagious in humans, but I’m starting to wonder if I’ve given it to my dog.
Poor Finley – he hasn’t been the same since we brought Connor home. We did the introduction thing and the blanket-smelling thing when we came home from the hospital and for a while he seemed okay. Curious, and perhaps a little suspicious, but okay.
Then Connor started to get mobile, and apparently this was NOT OKAY. Finley watched with surprise, and then concern, and then he started to get a little too close as though he was perfectly prepared to put the chubby little crawling thing in his place. So we carefully intervened on Connor’s behalf to make sure his chub stayed intact, but as Connor has grown it’s Finley who needs us to run interference.
This is generally related to Connor’s tendency to be active and physical and, well, two. We’ve taught him that he needs to be gentle, and usually he is. But occasionally Finley gets a completely undeserved swat, which we treat with zero tolerance so it’s getting better.
But at the first sign of any sort of discipline – even a calm command for a time-out – Finley’s tail starts to droop. If Connor is crying, for whatever reason, Finley lurks nearby, tail between his legs, head dropped, everything in his pose revealing his concern. If we get into a true cut-it-out, I’m-serious, quit-being-so-two! situation with Connor, Finley runs for cover.
Maybe it was that first year when things were so rough – Connor was fussy, didn’t sleep, cried a lot. I didn’t cope, didn’t sleep, cried a lot. Maybe Finley has Post Traumatic Connor Disorder as well.
At times we’ve found him cowering on the stairs or under a desk or chair. Sometimes his poor little fuzzy body shakes. When Connor’s in the house, Finley is always on high alert. I feel guilty for not being able to protect him from this.
Or maybe I shouldn’t feel that guilt – shouldn’t worry that there was too much tension when Connor was a baby and my reaction to it has traumatized my dog for life. Maybe it’s just the combination of a dog who likes his routine and a child who is determined to keep things interesting.
But I feel for my furry baby, and when he looks at me with those sad puppy-dog eyes I know just how he feels.
In his happy place.
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