My rock-eating, terribly anxious, terrified-I will-get-out-of-her-sight baby is now on Prozac. It will take awhile to build up in her system. But I am hoping it helps her.
It’s okay, Abs, Mom takes Effexor. And it helps me. And if it will make you feel better, I will stamp the words: “So what, I take Effexor” on my forehead. Because I would do anything for you. Anything to ease what ails you.
Charlie has his own demons to fight. He has a phobia of flying or jumping insects. Remember the post when I was in the wheelchair and rolling all over the kitchen trying to catch the cricket before he caught wind of the situation. (I did catch it and put it outside too.)
Charlie spends much of his day, when he isn’t on guard at the windows or in the chair with me at the computer, underneath blankets or anything he can hide under. You can wonder where he is, but rather than disturb him, I just walk about the house looking for little “lumps” that could be him.
But he is much more easy going than his sister. You can see it in his eyes.
I thought when I moved here, she would get better. But she soon began to start barking and wailing when the phone rang. I try to talk on the phone while trying to catch Abi so I can hold her and talk for a few minutes. I’m sure whoever is on the other end wonders what on earth is going on.
She alludes me by running all over the house, just out of reach, barking so loud I cannot hear the other person. It is an ongoing battle.
I tell myself: She watched me cry after a lot of phone calls. It has affected her so deeply she can’t get it out of her doggy mind. She continually sniffs the corners of my eyes to see if there are tears there. They aren’t there very much anymore. But Abi does or will not forget.
It’s been a tough couple of years. Don’t think your pets don’t feel it right along with you.
And as their mother, you worry. You wonder what you did wrong. What you should have done that you didn’t do to protect them. You blame yourself.
From the intensity of her reactions, Charlie has learned them too. I don’t know if he knows what he’s reacting to. But he barks and wails right along with her at times. Maybe because he doesn’t want her to feel alone in her misery.
I wonder what she sees when she’s looking out there so intently. Is it just a neighbor’s cat or someone walking a dog? Or it is something she remembers that she can’t shake? Can dogs do that, do you think?
I am in it for the long haul, guys. If you hurt, I hurt right along with you. I will shield you from pain when I can. And get you help when I can’t.
Because that’s just what Moms do.