What isn’t he scared of…
This story starts 20 years ago.
When Krissy and I decided to get married, she told me getting a dog was nonnegotiable. I never wanted a pet (probably a result of how I was raised), but Krissy had always dreamed of having a huge dog by her side. Honestly, it makes sense—every dog within a block radius somehow finds her, senses her magic, and immediately appoints her as their leader and favorite person.
Don’t tell her, but I do too.
Well, the nonnegotiable dog turned into a negotiable size. We ended up with a perfect 15-pound pup named Oliver, who stole my heart. I wasn’t his favorite (that was obviously Krissy), but he was absolutely mine. We were young and naïve and did just enough training to make him sweet, lovable… and the ruler of our home. He loved to bark and did it often. The day he died was absolutely heart-wrenching.
Our love for Oliver made it hard to even consider having other dogs in our life. But eventually, with Krissy gently nudging, we decided to try again—with a slightly bigger dog, and the intention of training him as a service dog.
That’s how Douglas, our mini Bernedoodle, came into our lives.
With time and training, Doug became an amazingly sweet and well-behaved dog. But as it turns out, he will never be a service dog—because he is afraid of literally everything. Not just fireworks and thunderstorms like most dogs… but vibrations, wind, loud noises (and I am a loud human), shadows, motion… the list goes on.
We’ve tried it all: behavior modification, ignoring him, vet-prescribed meds, Trazodone, THC, CBD, jackets, headbands, snuggles, white noise, loud music, crating—you name it. Yet almost daily, you can find him under the table in the basement, trying to wedge himself behind one of us, or shaking so hard you can hear his teeth chattering from another room.
It’s hard enough to deal with at home, but even harder when we travel. He doesn’t like the car, the RV, or any kind of motion. The RV is especially hard—he absolutely loses his mind and insists on being glued to Krissy’s lap the entire time.
So here’s where you come in… HELP. What have you done for your anxious dogs? Truly, we’re open to any ideas.
And if you think that’s the end of the story… of course it’s not.
We went back and forth for a year about whether to get a second dog. Two things tipped us over the edge:
We thought a second dog might help Doug’s anxiety. (Spoiler alert: it didn’t. Might’ve made it worse.)
There was a free dog who needed a home.
Enter: Greta.
Greta is a tiny mutt with a whole lot of Chihuahua in her (thanks, DNA test). She’s the boss of all the dogs and refuses to be separated from Douglas for more than an hour. She’s trained to a solid D-level—because D’s still get puppy diplomas, right? She has separation anxiety from Douglas, and loves to feed off his stress in the car and RV. It's a whole symphony of chaos.
If you follow our blog, you know we’re planning to go full-time RVing in about three years. Which means we’ve got three years to figure this out.
I love these little weirdos with all my heart, and I hate to see them struggle. I know this post probably doesn’t help you in any way—unless you’re also living in the middle of the Anxious Dog Olympics—but if you’ve got tips, please send them our way.
Here’s to loving our furry friends, even with all their quirks.
– Anne