Originally Posted by kjc  Yes, I believe they can suffer mentally from a lack of bonding.
I got my Peek A Boo from the Humane Society when he was 5 years old. He wasn't very friendly, though he did sit in my lap the first 3 days as he was scared to death. He had already been in 3 or 4 homes priur to mine. He wouldn't look at me, just kind of tolerated me. After 2 months, I was beginning to doubt my decision of getting, and seriously thought about returning him to the HS.
I had Yorkies before him and I know he was different, and his behavior seemed spiteful too. We had some housetraining issues, and I was just unhappy much of the time. Being a retired vet tech, I was quite embarrassed that I couldn't get through to him. I missed by 1st and 2nd Yorkies so badly though, I vowed to really give it my all and try again.
So I watched him closely, no more battles, let him out and took him for walks. Nothing changed. So I watched him some more. I noticed when I called his name, there was no response. When I called my kitties to come eat, he beat them into the kitchen. So I changed his name to 'Here, Kitty Kitty.' He would come when called, so I was happy. Back to watching... I finally decided he had more cat like behaviors, so I began treating him like a cat. He seemed happier that way.
He would go outside in the yard to pee, and come back in and poop in the house. So I would let him out, and then back in, and follow him around till he had to go, and let him back out again. This worked so we did it that way.
My vet said only feed him 1/2 can of food twice a day, to keep him at 5 pounds. He kept stealing cat food, and was fighting with my other dogs. I thought well, if he's hungry, he'll be grouchy, so I let him eat more. His aggressiveness began to go away.
I also made a vow to sit with him on my lap every night before bed, and I would tell him what a good boy he was. He acted like he had never heard those words before in his life. He did know every 4 letter word I could think of...that was sad. But every night I sat with him, and told him he was good. And that I loved him, and no matter what he did wrong, I didn't care, he could stay with me. Forever. And when we had a bad day, I still lied and told him he was a good boy anyway. He was who he was, and I would love him anyway. And I tried.
After some time passed, I noticed his behavior was improving! This was great, and I started to give him kisses on his cheeks at night to go along with our little talks. I'd kiss one side and he would flip his head around so I could kiss the other side. I had given up after 5 months of him ever kissing me back. I just accepted him as a non-kissing dog. I think he liked it though when I kissed him, so I never stopped. Some days he wanted more kisses than other days. After eight months of him not kissing me or even looking at me, he finally licked my cheek! We celebrated some and went to bed.
I remember putting his bed in the wash one day. When he saw it wasn't in it's usual place, he panicked, and started looking all over the house for it, frantically. When I realized what he was doing, I held him until I could show him I was only washing his bed, I was not throwing him out on the street. He stayed in my arms till the dry cycle finished, and when I replaced his bed he got right in it and went to sleep. I went out and bought more beds that day, so he would never feel like that again.
He just turned 15 years old this past December. We are absolutely best buddies, and he really is a good boy. Most of the time, lol.
He was the most difficult dog I ever had to get close to, but it was worth it. Mental illness? Maybe. He had shut down emotionally, so I had to bring him back. He loves everybody and has for 9 years. |