Real behavior modification: Mary bought a red, long-haired dachshund, whom we (I) have named Schuster, or Schuey (Shoey). We found the seller in the Cracker Barrel parking lot. There it is, a new addition to the Little Master's household. He is not troubled, for now we are Simon and Schuster, the red and the black.
In fact, the only troubled (I watch "Haven" on Friday nights) creature in our house is Frollie who growls at Schuster every time he passes by. And then there is Schuster who came into the house troubled. He is eight months old and apparently has known only his litter mates up until we bought him and, according to our vet, created a separation anxiety. The little guy won't let us pick him up. He's okay when he's in our arms (all nine and a half pounds of him), but before that happens he runs. He'll come close but he doesn't want anything to do with being picked up. He'll sleep between us on the bed, but before we can hold him, we have to catch him. I can scarcely walk on my own let alone catch a small (did I say nine pounds and a half?) red streak flashing by my feet. "Schuey, oops, damn! Missed him again!") I tried getting down on the floor to see if I could entice him to come with a tidbit. He grabbed the tidbit and ran. I think I heard him giggle. Then, of course, I spent the next half hour trying to get up off the floor.
At this juncture, Schuster is the canine version of those people who think everything going on around them is about them. Walk into the room where he is lying down and off he goes, even if you just want to sit down too. Go to the kitchen for a drink of Ocean Spray Cran-Grape and he dashes into the bedroom. In fact if someone just looks at him, he runs. And so on. (And no, Ocean Spray is not paying me.)
The oddity is that he has, of course, bonded with the most neurotic dog in the house, Dexter the Beagle. It occurs to me that Dexter will just reinforce Schuey's neurotic tendencies. Dexter is afraid of almost any man who comes to the house, as well of many other things. It took him two years to get over his fear of me. Fortunately he did get over it, perhaps because I am the person who feeds him Alpo every day. Dexter's response to Schuey is mostly toleration. Schuey thinks Dexter's food bowl is also his, apparently, for when Dexter gets his bowl of food, Schuey rushes in and sticks his nose in the bowl too, though of course we don't let him do that. Dexter, the gentle giant, just backs away as if that's simply the way the universe works: the little dog eats the big dog's food. Frollie would have snapped his ear off, and I am not sure what Simon would do since his food never lasts long enough for anyone to find out, but Simon isn't food aggressive.
Interestingly, Simon was asleep on the sofa two nights ago when Schuey, who was up there with Mary, crawled over and fell asleep stretched out next to him, the black and the red, Simon and Schuster, too cute. Apparently Simon hadn't known that Schuey was asleep next to him for most of the evening, for suddenly he woke up, saw Schuster beside him and jumped down to the floor as quickly as he could move, which isn't all that quickly anymore. I keep cutting back on his food, but he is still a slightly tubby little dachshund, and maybe Simon is just a tad troubled by the new addition, though he doesn't growl at him.