Stress Relief

Having a dog is clearly the best method for dealing with stress.  Beyond the simple stress-relief of petting a dog, trying to understand their reasoning and motivation is a hoot.

Let it be known: I have a bad dog.  The problem is that he doesn’t engage in any untoward behavior when I’m home and able to correct him.  He waits until I’ve gone before getting on the couch, which I can tell he’s done based on evidentiary fur and rips in the cushions.  He also only helps himself to items from the counter when I’m away.  The dog obviously understands what not to do when I’m there and knows that he can do as he pleases when I’m not around.  That mixture of unruly and clever is a dangerous combination.

Based on his behaviors I’d really like to understand what he’s thinking.  Some of his actions are clearly knee-jerk, such as chasing squirrels and barking at other dogs.  But these other things he does are obviously based on some thought process, and for him, makes sense as the appropriate thing to do.

Case in point: Monday I returned home from work to find an empty bag of treats on my bed.  These were Dingo mini-rawhide chew bones.  I had no idea how many he had eaten.  I picked up the bag and noticed one uneaten on the floor.  I bent over to pick it up and found another in the room.  I took a quick sweep of that room, and then others in the houses, and was able to recover about a dozen of them: behind a pillow, beneath a dresser, under a bed, etc.  I was certainly glad that he didn’t gorge himself on rawhide chews, but I was curious why he would tear the bag open just to spread the treats across the house.

Over the course of this week, he’s been coming up with these treats, one at a time, from wherever he’s stashed them.  I’ll be watching TV and he’ll come prancing into the room with yet another rawhide.  “Where did you find that?” I ask, but he’s not talking.  I’m not sure if he just didn’t like the frequency with which I gave him these, so he’s decided to ration them himself, or if he’s just hidden them from himself and is engaging in a one-dog Easter egg hunt to keep himself busy.  Regardless, that pure joy you see in the dog when he gets another one is contagious.

This morning, though, I got the best chuckle from him I’ve had in some time.  The morning routine is simple.  I get up and open the back door.  He goes out and does his thing.  I go tool around in social media online.  When he’s done, he comes, finds me, and waits for his treat.

Sometimes he trots in at a gentle pace.  Other days, he comes barreling full speed, blasting his way into the house.  I’m not entirely sure why he decides to either walk or run.  Something surely sets him off.

This morning was a running day.  I could tell by the sound he made as he shoved the door open.  It was the following sound that caught my attention.  I heard the sound of claws sliding across the floor followed by a collision with what sounded like his food bowl.  I looked around the corner to see what had happened.

Indeed, he had collided with both his food and water bowls.  His bowl was overturned and kibble was strewn about.  Based purely on the radius of the debris field it must have been a spectacular crash.  I wish I had seen it.  My best guess is that while taking a corner quickly, his dewy paws lost traction.

I didn’t bother cleaning up, though.  He seems to enjoy picking up kibble one by one off the floor more than eating it directly from the bowl.  This is another one of those things that makes perfect sense to him, but I just don’t understand.