Comfort zone

When Chester finds a comfort zone he generally packs his bags and plans an extended vacation. He really settles into routines. Although his patterns have evolved over the months, most of the time it’s fairly easy to determine how much he will tolerate. That’s not to say I haven’t made mistakes along the way. I have pushed him into panic zone several times but have paid the price right along with him. A few times this has happened quite honestly by accident, others have occurred simply by my insistence that he try to move on with his rehabilitation. Obviously, in those few instances Chester wasn’t quite ready for that next step. You never know until you try though, and I’d rather attempt a change than to be afraid he might fail and miss an opportunity to excel. If we’re too fearful for our pets and children, they might never reach their true capabilities.

Severe panic and true fear cause this dog to flee immediately to the nearest impossible space in which to hide. Then it’s likely he’ll defecate and pee wherever he is at the time. Occasionally those hiding spaces have been precarious ones that we’d swear were too small for an animal his size. Sometimes those spaces were actually dangerous for him. Several times I wasn’t sure he would be able to retreat from a place he thought to be his safe haven. We rearranged furniture and recently installed plywood panels to prevent Chester from entering behind Glenn’s bed. Glenn actually custom fit pieces and screwed them into the frame of his bed to block access behind it. Chester may not realize it but he is growing and I’m afraid that one of these days he’ll get back there and be unable to back out. It’s a very heavy old 4-poster king waterbed frame that’s been converted with box spring and mattress, but would take too long to disassemble if Chester got stuck. I don’t work well with power tools when an animal is distressed (or can’t imagine I would anyway).

When Chester’s preferences or behaviors change, there’s no smooth transition - it’s quick and unexpected. Awhile ago he decided he’d rather sleep (naps and overnights) in the basement with Glenn and Casey. We’ve always eaten lunch and dinner there but Chester and I returned upstairs shortly thereafter. At that time Chester still spent his days with me in my office or bedroom. A few times he even came to the kitchen on his own to see what “Mom” was doing, although he never stayed more than a minute or two. He now has no interest in going upstairs, at all, unless there’s a halter and leash involved.

Maybe Chester enjoys the television selection in the basement bedroom (nostalgia TV shows or Westerns) instead of my music and quiet reading. Even though his new dog bed and stuffed toys remain upstairs, Chester is content to spend time on the floor next to Glenn’s bed. Casey’s old bed is located on one side, the other side preferred because Glenn drops dirty jeans and shirt there overnight. Glenn placed a soft blanket next to the dirty clothes so there’s always a place for Chester to lay his head when the clothes go to the hamper.

Quick change artist? Houdini for sure. One day Chester preferred spending time upstairs with me. The next day the basement had became “his place” to hang out, day and night. This time it appears he’s not only packed an overnight bag, but maybe a large suitcase. On a daily basis he attempts to bring stuffed animal friends downstairs to his new digs. I suspect if he could manage it, the new dog bed would be dragged to the basement and strategically placed as well (at least I wouldn’t doubt it’s crossed his devious mind). I’ve only allowed a few toys in the basement at a time because his sister Casey would shred them, sooner than later.

Originally I was hesitant to let Chester remain in the basement because I really don’t want him to spend his days alone. He needs socialization and structure in his life, not isolation. So now I have a dilemma. My daily routine is rather boring, but I like it. I’ve finally settled into retirement and enjoy the perks. But, my daily activities are centered on being upstairs … my dream kitchen, the home office (where a 32 inch flat screen serves as a nice desktop monitor for the main computer), treadmill where I focus most of my exercise routines. Now Chester needs me in the basement and my life is upstairs. Damn!!

This time of year Glenn spends eight hours a day in his garage/woodshop. I can’t, and won’t ask him to stay in the basement to keep Chester company. Casey is always at Glenn’s side but having Chester in the garage isn’t an option. He would surely find the most dangerous hidey hole possible. Remember? Houdini.

Since we adopted Chester he and I have been practically inseparable … it works and we shouldn’t change it. I surely don’t want to disrupt what progress we’ve gained in four months.

So, it’s time for me to pack my bags as well. Time to relocate a few pieces of furniture and turn part of the basement family room into my (alternate) office space. Note: my grown kids are now laughing.

Here I sit, in my rocker/recliner … feet up … laptop pc on a tray in front of me … cell phone, water bottle, pen and note pad, TV remote and iPod dock on end table at my side. Apparently it’s all I need - except the dog who is watching me from the basement bedroom.