Taming Maggie
One dog's battle against stress and separation anxiety
Kate finds the doctor's first order heartbreaking: Zausner tells her to start by avoiding contact with Maggie for a half hour before she leaves the house. The idea is that "benign neglect" will take some emotion out of the goodbyes. Instead of hugs, Kate should give Maggie something distracting such as a chew toy stuffed with peanut butter right before she leaves. When she returns from work, Kate should wait until Maggie is calm before interacting with her.
Day 4 LET THE THERAPY BEGIN . . . Yesterday, Maggie ripped open an ankle weight and tossed its black, sooty contents high into the air, leaving a blanket of dirt over Kate's bedroom. But Kate is hopeful. Maggie has been taking her medicine for three days now, and Kate has kicked off the training with a plastic ball that dispenses treats when rolled. Instead of Maggie's whimpering and barking, Kate hears the playful sounds of her dog chasing the ball when she leaves in the morning.
Day 10 THE ALLURE OF TREATS FADES . . . As soon as Kate shuts the door to leave for work, Maggie starts barking loudly despite the food-filled ball beckoning at her feet. Chastised by sideways glances from neighbors waiting for the elevator, Kate returns to the apartment to scold Maggie to get her quiet. "I was too embarrassed to walk out while my dog was rousing the whole building at 8:30 in the morning," Kate says. She plans a trip to the pet store to stock up on chew toys.
Day 15 IF ONLY SHE COULD TALK . . . To a dog with separation anxiety, a master putting on a coat or holding a set of house keys is like a train whistle signaling an upcoming departure. Theoretically, one way to break this association is to put on a coat but not leave. Another is to leave for very short periods of time. In practice, though, these tricks can be confusing. When Kate puts on her coat and doesn't leave, Maggie "gets up and looks at me, walks around in a circle, and then sits down," Kate says. "It's a little hard to read." When Kate leaves the apartment for five or 10 minutes, sometimes Maggie barks and sometimes she doesn't. Kate starts losing faith. "I feel like I'm going through the motions because I've committed to doing the program, but I don't really believe in it. I feel like we're doomed to living this way for the next 15 years." At least Maggie isn't vomiting.
Day 21 A GLIMMER OF HOPE? It used to be that when Kate returned home from a quick trip to the store or a long day at the office, Maggie would celebrate as if the Yankees had just won the pennant. "She'd jump up and push on my shoulders with her paws, almost knock me over, and she'd run around really fast," Kate says. "Now she just trots over to say hi like a normal dog."
Day 27 MAGGIE CALMS DOWN . . . A month into the therapy, Kate is happy to report that for an entire week Maggie has not chewed, ripped, tossed, eaten, or scratched a single object that was not intended for her consumption. She's not as playful as she used to be, and she seems to tire more easily when she runs. But Maggie's progress has been so good that Kate can leave the pillows on the couch when she goes out instead of hiding them in closets. And visitors say she seems "much calmer now." Maggie sometimes still barks when Kate leaves for work and occasionally soils the carpets, but there's no doubt she has come a long way.
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