The manager of the Bates Motel and her hubby are off to the big city for 4 days. They are leaving the motel hound, Carson, with me. Now, I like dogs. I think they're great. I've even owned a few dogs and loved them madly. But Carson has deep psychological problems. He ACTS like a dog who lives in the Bates Motel. He suffers from the most severe case of seperation anxiety I have ever seen. This manifests itself by non-stop whining 24/7 and attempted breaks for freedom everytime I open the gate between the front desk and the lobby.
I have tried in this order: Lots of petting and reassuring words; more petting and walkies; and still more petting and chewie toys paid for out of my own pocket. None of these work, so after about two hours of non stop whining, I finally lose my temper and give Carson a lecture about his bad behavior in a very stern voice. Carson knows he done wrong. He flattens his ears to his head and crawls on his belly toward me. I feel like a shit being so mean to him, but it's the only thing that shuts him up - for an hour or so. Then it all starts again.
I am considering giving Carson his own room. The one next to motel maintenance guy would be perfect.
