Nearer My Dog to Thee

Clifford was always a little crazy, but he is becoming more neurotic by the day. He follows us around the house: "Do you love me now? Do you love me now? How about now?" He is a legendary digger (we'd get calls from the neighbors at our old house saying, "Clifford's got his head stuck under the fence again."). But lately he's been digging IN the house, rooting through closets and messing up furniture. And when he's left outside unwatched for more than one minute, he immediately digs under the fence to the back door. To be with us again. ("How about now? Do you love me now?). He did it today while I was on the phone with Chad, appearing at the back door after a slog through the muddy flower bed. From one angle, he looked like a brown dog.

Stricken by sudden-onset separation anxiety at the age of 9, he desperately wants to be with us every single moment. He sleeps in Lucy's room, or he scratches on our bedroom door to be let in just to put his nose on my hand. The poor dog needs anti-anxiety meds. Or therapy. Or maybe a walk.