Don’t Leave Me This Way

“Don’t leave me this way. I can’t survive, can’t stay alive, without your love. Don’t leave me this way.” 

Those sentiments from an opening chorus of a Communards refrain are often communicated by my beagle Bella’s sad sideways glances when about to be left home alone. Yours truly’s parting assurances of “I’ll not be long!” doing little to assuage my enchanting hound with chronic separation anxiety.

Of course, if those lyrics do pass through my furry charges’s erratic mind, the part about being unable to survive if left home alone for several days is true. Quite clearly she’d not attain sufficient calorific value from consuming home contents during my elongated absence, consequently things would be stark for the lass. 

Bella isn’t averse to eating inedible titbits, such as kids toys, training shoe socks and my partners lasagne, so I’ve little doubt she’d endeavour to survive on a diet of my ornaments, clothes, along with home fixtures and fittings. Sadly, that menu’s lack of nutritional value would not be suffice to sustain old furry face for long should such a scenario pan out.

At this juncture I’d like to point out my canine wingman is a bit on the chunky side. To clarify, if Bob Geldof and Midge Ure clapped eyes on her, they’d not be arranging a charity record and gig anytime soon to raise funds for her wellbeing. With this in mind, her current body fat may sustain her slightly longer if abandoned without human support.

Of course, I’d never mistreat Bella in any way. She’s my sidekick, the shadow whose propensity for capricious behaviour mirrors mine. Her walks akin to my prose, ie venturing off in unpredictable tangents; are underpinned by idiosyncrasy, and never knowing where they’ll end up as the narrative begins. 

I find one of the most difficult things about owning a dog is not being able to make them understand you’ll be returning home soon; and not only that you’ll probably return with a treat for for them…  I kinda guess that’s one of the reasons she’s so bloody chunky. 

Alas, you cannot make them understand, subsequently no amount of verbal re-assurance alleviates her canine angst when left home alone. Unless, of course, they can works out to order pizza like Macauley Culkin’s character when he was left home alone in the movie of that name. However, I suspect my beagle isn’t that resourceful.   

Other more experienced dog owners have provided me with a few tips to lessen Bella’s separation anxiety; up to press though they have proved unsuccessful. One of these the tongue in cheek (I think) suggestion of me never leaving my house again!

Another suggested distraction technique was to play the radio when leaving her alone. I tried this approach to no avail; my neighbours still hearing her intermittently cry when I was out, indicating it did little if anything to reduce Bells’ stress levels… On reflection, though, perhaps it wasn’t the strategy which was flawed. She perhaps would have just preferred listening to music instead of talkSport.

Alternatively, one dog owner proposed leaving my television on when leaving Bella home alone. Stupidly, though, when attempting this approach I left my TV on the QVC UK channel. Resulting in receiving emails during my shopping trip revealing Bella had just purchased a silver cutlery set and six Paw Patrol mugs… Although I might have dreamt that!

A further recommendation was to occupy my beagle’s mind when leaving her. This individual advising me to fill a Kong Ball with dog treats. For the uninitiated, Kong Balls are hollowed out rubber balls slightly larger than a cricket ball with a smallish hole at one end; the gap allowing both the input and exit of small dog treats. When the ball is packed, the dog is required to form a strategy to dislodge the biscuits, allowing them to consume their bounty. 

Ordinarily, this is a challenge for our furry friends, distracting them from the fact they’ve been left home alone for several minutes, ergo a less anxious hound. Sadly, though, Bella was quite adept at cleaning her Kong Ball of treats within a couple of minutes. Meaning as soon as I’d driven away from my home she’d eaten all the treats and her anxiety quickly returned

As a late to the party dog owner (Bella is the first dog I’ve owned) there’s lots I need to learn about canine behaviour. Several individuals of my acquaintance, who’ve spent lifetimes caring for these loving and loyal creatures, remark beagles weren’t the wisest choice of breed to earn my doggy dad stripes. Suggesting these mercurial mutts are too easily distracted by scent to effectively train and master. Sentiments I’m learning are not too far off the mark.

What do you do, though, as owner of a pet whose behaviour is unpredictable. One thing I’ve found helpful is manage your furry charge as effectively as you can. Maintain focus on the pets behaviour throughout a walk, keep her on a short lead when passing other dogs and their owners, using calming words upon approach. If necessary, avert potential flash points by avoiding other dogs who trigger Bella into barking; there aren’t many, but I endeavour to give those she does chunter at a wider berth.

To be clear, Bella isn’t a violent or dangerous dog. She’ll only bark occasionally (if at all) at dog owners passing my secure front garden, or some fellow canines during her walk. To my mind, as she mixes well with both humans and pooches when off lead at a doggy daycare retreat she visits weekly, that bravado is nothing more than keyboard warrior stuff. 

It’s fair to say, though, the unpredictability of her breed and fears surrounding recall when strolling venues from where she could escape, mean it’s unlikely I’ll ever be able to walk her unleashed outside of her home environment, or at a secured dog park.

So what have my (almost) one year as a beagle doggy dad taught me? Well:-

1. They are incredibly loving creatures;
2. Don’t expect a dog walk to follow a set pattern; it’s more of a dance routine (as written about in my previous blog Seven!! )
3. Beagles are very food orientated;
4. They’re accomplished at acquiring extra food rations from saps like me by employing a sad side eye look;
5. They don’t appear to like listening to talkSport on the radio;
6. Expect the unexpected, and be suspicious of quietness when not in your eyesight;
7. And never, ever leave QVC UK on and your credit card within reach when you leave them home alone!