Homer Goes to Daycare

Homer did not fit the profile of the typical dog daycare member. He was a chunky 7-year-old terrier mix that had spent his entire life sharing quiet evenings and weekends with his bookish owner. Yet he was the first to arrive at daycare on his welcome day. Because his owner was desperate. Homer’s attention seeking had become intensely frustrating since a laptop computer entered their lives and changed everything.

Photos of Homer are lost. Found this cute look-a-like on Petfinder.com.

For Homer the abrupt shift from quiet seclusion to standing in the midst of strangers was hard. He looked like the weight of the world rested on his small shoulders. The staff shielded him from the cheeky and boisterous; he did his best to avoid all of us, returning home exhausted. For his troubled owner, daycare was a lifeline. She signed him up to attend 5 days a week.

Within days Homer had adjusted to the daily routine yet remained distant, tolerating the curiosity of dogs and the narrow requirement to detach/attach the leash that bookended his day. If staff attempted to pet him, he would move away. The owner believed her little dog’s reluctance was just Homer being Homer.

Her objective was a tired dog. Like it or not, the laptop had broken the bounds of the owner’s 9-to-5 workday. And she needed to stay ahead of increasing demands without interference from a furry saboteur.

THE PINT-SIZED OVERLORD

Long before a laptop computer turned his world upside down, Homer was a misbehaving A-list attention seeker. While his owner readied for the office, he would snatch clothing, shoes, bath and beauty items, anything portable, then race under the bed with his booty to chomp away at it, mere inches beyond her reach.

An engine of determination, Homer eventually triumphed over the conundrum of closed zippers multiplying his options. The first time he dove under the bed with his owner’s makeup case, she tried frantically to get it back. Because the case had value, Homer kept trying. After repeated raids, he could unzip, dump, and chew the contents to bits with admirable speed. Eventually he applied his new skill to the contents of handbags and a leather portfolio with highly distressing results.

Th owner had hoped daycare would cure Homer’s grab-and-go routine. Unfortunately for her, Homer awakened every morning revived and refreshed after 12 hours of sleep. The morning ritual was a ruckus, each side attempting to outmaneuver the other as the owner struggled to get them both out the door. Some mornings the owner could barely speak as she handed off her dog.

AUDITORY HELL

Several months after Homer started daycare, I took care of him while his owner was in the hospital. Because he could not be trusted, confinement was necessary. His owner purchased a crate large enough to accommodate a miniature pony covering the bottom with a plush bathroom rug. I warned that the rug might not be safe until Homer was accustomed to the crate, but his owner insisted.

Monday was our first night. Homer barked for 8 hours and reduced the plush bathroom rug to a pile of carpet samples. He went to daycare and slept all day while I worked. The second night Homer barked for 7 hours. By night four, Homer was down to 3 hours of barking before falling asleep. Friday night was blissfully quiet.

On the other side of auditory hell was a friendly, engaging, happy little dog. Homer charmed daycare staff and strangers in the neighborhood park. Our second week together was a joy.

When the owner returned home she was surprised by her dog’s upbeat attitude, wanting very much to keep the good times going. Unfortunately Homer 2.0 required a willingness to make some lifestyle changes which can be very difficult for some owners. She did try but Homer knew all the chinks in her armor. Within days, Homer had reverted to the previously saved version.