Under-the-Bed-Dog is back. She is Z’s mom’s dog. They are on vacation and we take the dog. You might question why the SO is willing to babysit for his ex-wife but he explains that he feels sorry for anyone who “has to live with that &^&(*_” and wants the dog to have a break.

The dog has a name but we prefer Under-the-Bed-Dog because it is descriptive. She has loads of anxiety. She hides. Now that we’ve had her for a week, she’s coming out more. She’s sitting by me now. Last night she wanted on top of the bed for a bit. But mostly she hides. If you want her to pee you need to dangle the leash under the bed so she knows she’s wanted. Her food is put under the bed or she won’t eat. Fun times.

Yesterday we took her and Freckles to the dog park. It blew her little mind. She’d get brave and then something VERY SCARY would happen and she’d run all the way back to the gate we came in and we’d have to go get her. One VERY SCARY was when a guy threw a ball. He didn’t throw it at her or even in her direction. But she saw it in the air and ran off. After that we kept her on a leash and walked around with her. We’ve been Those Parents who have taken a screaming kid out of public places over our shoulders and now we are Those Owners who walk their dog around the dog park on a leash. Embarrassing. Freckles pretended not to know us all.

I’m going to take them back tomorrow and try again. She needs to be moved a bit out of her comfort zone. Whenever she would forget to be afraid, she was enjoying herself. Maybe if we can get her used to the idea of playing, we can talk her owner into taking her to the park too.