Letter Arts Scene Movie Listings Endnotes Food Personal Essays
Music Short Talk Books Feature Calendar Blogs The Guide

Advertisements
E-MAIL BOOKMARK
You need to be logged in to bookmark an article.
login | Register now | No thanks
PRINT
You need to be logged in to e-mail an article.
login | Register now | No thanks

Doggy OCD

By Stephanie Callahan

May 7, 2009 | 12:00 a.m. CST

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder is categorized as having unwanted thoughts or obsessions that result in repetitive, unwanted behavior. My family is convinced our scruffy brown dog Max is the poster child for doggy OCD. Max is a dog that specializes in human worries and quirks that would more likely fit a person with a prescription for Prozac.
I’ve loved dogs from an early age. The first word I ever spoke was “dog.” By the time I reached 9, I must have spoken that word more than a million times. When my parents got sick of hearing it, we opened the Sunday paper to the classified section and picked through the puppy ads looking for the perfect dog. Max came to us in the form of a Godzilla-sized miniature poodle.
Occasionally, we wonder if Max was once a human who grew up during the Great Depression. It wasn’t food hoarding per se; it was just the fact that he was bothered if he could see the bottom of his bowl. At first he just worried about himself, but when we got a second dog, Copper, Max had to make sure Copper’s food bowl was filled as well.
It’s common for dogs to have separation anxiety. Most people deal with scratched up couches or chewed shoes; however, Max preferred the passive-aggressive route. As a puppy, Max would hide socks in his crate. They would just go missing, and no one would ever know until we went to wash his blankets and found a pile of socks, none of them matching. As he got older, Max developed a penchant for dispersing the trash. While most dogs eat the trash, Max enjoyed spreading it throughout the house and leaving his handiwork in the middle of the floor for all to admire.
Then there was the obsession with the green ball. Not just any green ball, a ball with a certain squeak, softness and texture. Max could not be fooled. When the first ball eventually disintegrated, our search took us to California before we found another one he actually embraced. The fact that Max refused to eat without his ball next to his bowl and in his sightline made feeding time an unfortunate incidence. Occasionally when the ball went missing, our family of five, including Copper, would search frantically until it was discovered, usually under a couch or the tree in the backyard. At 12 years old now, the frantic searches for the infamous piece of rubber have increased.
But Max’s real kryptonite is the suitcase. Mention packing, and he goes into frenzy. He runs around the house making sure everyone is still present. God forbid he doesn’t get the chance to give out a round of kisses before someone were to leave. If the situation presents itself, Max will help himself into the suitcase and sit there until he is forcibly removed.
Don’t even mention the word “groomer” around the house. Max can usually be found cowering in the corner. My mom then has to break out the vet-prescribed prednisone for anxiety. My dad claims that this quirk is not Max’s fault; he could swear in Max’s pre-neuter days he was molested by a large Lab in the back of the grooming parlor. My dad isn’t the only one who enjoys making excuses for Max’s OCD behaviors. I find myself frequently defending Max’s behavior when friends and family point out yet another green-ball incident. For a smaller dog he can take the most bone-crushing hugs without wincing and his gentle scratch on your bedroom door for one morning kiss makes up for all of his crazy antics. Best of all, Max never criticizes any of my weird habits, and he certainly doesn’t look at me funny when I rearrange my entire plate of food because I can’t have anything touching.

Related Articles

Comments on this article

Password: (Forgotten your password?)

You must be logged in to comment. If you don't have an account, you can register here.