Self-Imposed Anxiety

Oh poor, poor Guido. Little did he know that his mom would turn him into a nervous ball of fluffy, frizzy unmatched fur.

Sure, Guido started off being crated (for approximately two days). But due to my extremely high level of anxiety and paranoia, I was convinced that Guido was gradually beginning to despise me. He was planning a sinister plan to escape from my wretched home if I did not take him out of his crate immediately.

I could see it all over his face and in his pitiful cry...he could not bear the thought of not having me around for at least 23 hours of the day. Being the stellar mom that I am, I chose to grant his wish and decided to devote 23 hours of my day to this little munchkin. I was already the crazy dog lady to most that know me, so what could a few more hours of my day do devoted to man's best friend.

The problem arose when I decided that I actually needed to work again. Every pain staking minute that went by when I was away from my Italian son, resulted in heart palpitations and chronic nail biting. He thought I was going to leave him. He thought I was a terrible mom.

I could picture Guido picketing outside my place. "Dead beat mom! You left me again!! Please take me to a place where I am loved and appreciated."

My anxiety got increasingly worse each day when finally my boyfriend had to stage an intervention.

"Lauren, you can go to dinner and a movie without paying someone to stay with him. You are not a bad mom. You will only be gone for three hours."

"Oh really, Mark? Do you see his brown beard switching to gray at an exponentially fast rate? This dog is in doggie hell right now. I am aging him - quickly. He is probably chasing his tail for hours, looking for possible escape routes and cursing my name. I cannot handle this thought."

"Lauren, it's me or the dog right now. We need to at least be able to go out on a date."

A part of me instantly saw a silver lining to this situation...finally, HE is begging me to go on dates. I could get used to this. However, the more rational part of me thought, screw this. Guido is a way better cuddler.

My anxiety regarding Gui didn't stop at leaving him, though. It unfortunately came with me to the dog park. One day he met a Vizsla that seemed nice enough. She was slightly bigger than him but not by too much. Ten minutes into their playtime, Guido let out a yelp followed by a growl.

Supermom to the rescue!! "GUI!", I shrieked and leapt forward. I swept up my poor fur ball and instantly started crying.

"Your dog should NOT be out here if she is mean to other dogs. Look at my dog! Do you see the terror on his face? He will never be the same with dogs now! I can't believe this!"

This poor man....he seriously looked white and was obviously not expecting my outburst. Nor was I for that matter. I had no idea what came over me. For a fleeting moment, I saw my mom in her exact persona embodied in me. All of her protectiveness and sometimes craziness (sorry mom) was clearly passed on. I needed to get ahold of myself - fast.

I noticed that the more paranoid I acted, the weirder Guido got. I realized that my self-imposed anxiety was rubbing off on my furry friend. Every time I would leave and start crying, Gui stood at the door crying. This was a new behavior for him and the last thing I wanted to do was perpetuate it.

OK, yoga to the rescue and some much needed de-stress time with little Stiffey. Let's hope that does the trick!