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*looks at soft-eyed black-and-white hearthrug wearing Spike's collar*
...Who the hell are you, and what have you done with my psycho hosebeast ceiling-dancing shark dog?
He's perfectly happy, and he's himself; he's not acting uncoordinated or drunk or anything. He's just freakishly, unbelievably, unnaturally mellow. He even played tuggy with me when we went for a walk. But it wasn't like normal Spike tuggy; I was expecting shark-wrestling and got a polite trained dolphin. He didn't even pull on the leash.
He's lying on the floor. There's been no pacing, no barking out of the window, no "let's do a circuit of the room without touching the floor", no sudden leaps at my head or Squish-baiting. He's watching the cat, but he's gone an entire afternoon without nosepoking or chasing her, and he's watching her slack-eyed and fondly, with none of his usual fierce coiled-spring attitude going on. I've not had this peaceful an afternoon since the day I brought him home, and frankly, it's freaking me the fuck out.
Of course, the effects of the melatonin didn't kick in till after the storm was over, so it wasn't as much help with that as it might have been; though it might have helped him recover quicker. I think it'll be a lifesaver when it comes to more predictable phobia triggers like fireworks, though. Thank you again, Cotton!
...Who the hell are you, and what have you done with my psycho hosebeast ceiling-dancing shark dog?
He's perfectly happy, and he's himself; he's not acting uncoordinated or drunk or anything. He's just freakishly, unbelievably, unnaturally mellow. He even played tuggy with me when we went for a walk. But it wasn't like normal Spike tuggy; I was expecting shark-wrestling and got a polite trained dolphin. He didn't even pull on the leash.
He's lying on the floor. There's been no pacing, no barking out of the window, no "let's do a circuit of the room without touching the floor", no sudden leaps at my head or Squish-baiting. He's watching the cat, but he's gone an entire afternoon without nosepoking or chasing her, and he's watching her slack-eyed and fondly, with none of his usual fierce coiled-spring attitude going on. I've not had this peaceful an afternoon since the day I brought him home, and frankly, it's freaking me the fuck out.
Of course, the effects of the melatonin didn't kick in till after the storm was over, so it wasn't as much help with that as it might have been; though it might have helped him recover quicker. I think it'll be a lifesaver when it comes to more predictable phobia triggers like fireworks, though. Thank you again, Cotton!
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