Nobody warned me I’d become a grandmother to dogs

I did the maths recently, and worked out I’ve actually spent more hours this year worrying about barking than I have about most humans in my life. That’s not a joke. Sad, isn’t it. Here’s how it happened.

Teddy is seventeen, deaf, and has been mine for what feels like forever. He’s also, at this stage of his life, a genuine anxiety case — the second I leave the house, he starts up, and once Teddy starts, he doesn’t stop. Then my daughter’s Pomeranian, Freddie, a little four-year-old who’s somehow become a permanent fixture around here too, hears Teddy going off and decides he’d better join in, just in case something’s actually wrong. Within about ninety seconds I’ve got two dogs conducting a full-volume, back-and-forth panic duet, and I’m not even home to witness it — I just get to imagine it happening while I’m out.

I have gone around all my neighbours to apologise and explain Teddy’s issue and, fortunately, they are understanding, to say the least. Why is it that nobody warns you about this part? You raise your own kids, you think you’ve done an OK job and that they’re making their way in life, and then somewhere, somehow, you’re not just minding your daughter’s dog — you’re managing his anxiety too, on top of your own dog’s anxiety, like some kind of unpaid, unqualified canine therapist who never even applied for the job.

I do remember telling my children they should all have an animal before they had children, so that they fully understood the commitment and the dedication it takes to care for another. Anyway — back to “my” barking dogs. I’ve tried everything. If I leave the door open to the back yard, Teddy digs a hole to China and is gone when I get home. I found that out in the first week. I also found out his previous owner was an elderly lady who passed away at home with little Teddy by her side, so it’s no surprise he’s anxious.

So I’ve tried so many things — meds and methodologies — but there is, in honesty, only one thing that helped, and that is the Houndware anti-bark collar for small dogs — no shock, just a beep and a light vibration, with adjustable sensitivity. And you guessed it — I had to get two, didn’t I, for when little Freddie is here. It does make a difference, and so much so that Teddy comes running for me to put it on him. I haven’t quite figured out why yet, but he seems to like it. He settles faster, which in turn helps the little whipper-snapper, as we call him. It hasn’t fixed the separation anxiety itself, but it’s broken the feedback loop where one dog panicking sets the other one off, which was honestly the worst part.

I don’t know if there’s a lesson in this beyond “nobody tells you the job doesn’t actually end, it just changes species.” But if you’re also unofficially minding a dog that isn’t yours, on top of your own, and you’re at your wit’s end with the barking — you’re not the only one, and there is something that helps.