When I arrive home from work, I brace myself, and once she sees me, her mouth closes, and she implodes.
Wanda is a sleek, long, and fast German Shepherd. She’s semi-obedient and smart. I think she’s pottied in the house twice since we adopted her in December, she’ll stay in her crate until we say she can come out, and when we say “crib” she goes right into her crate. She’s not perfect, though.
Her only issue, although a major one, is her separation anxiety. She will scream if you leave her and she will push with all her might to get out the door with you. Also, she doesn’t like to leave her homestead and will cry in the Jeep. Cry, like a baby. It’s a piercing screech.
I do become impatient with her when she’s inconsolable, and I know the worst thing I can do is console her during her outbursts or she’ll think it’s OK, but it’s very sad if you think about it.
We adopted her at six months, well after a pup remembers, so I don’t know if she’ll ever feel secure, safe, and a permanent part of this family. Gosh we love her so much, and if we could only reassure her that she’s here for good, she may be able to rest.