Even Dogs Are On Prosac...

See that sweet innocent Alaskan malamute? His name is Skippy, and he tried to kill me. A little bit of background on Skippy. Skippy was adopted from Best Friends Utah in December of 2005, when my dad got Skippy he realized there would be some issues because Skippy had been abused throughout his life, but my dad was willing to let Skippy into the house.

Things were not easy for Skippy in his new home. Skippy and my dad's step children had their fair share of tiffs. Skippy had bit Wesley, Desiree, and Sarah and made countless other threats. I personally don't blame Skippy for any of these tiffs, but Skippy was walking a thin line between a home and the shelter. Then in July my dad's wife filed for divorce and everything changed for Skippy. The house was sold and the 3 cats, lizard, snake, fish, turtle and Skippy were divided up. My dad's wife took the cats, and my dad was left with the rest.

Let's just say Skippy was under a lot of stress, his home was being torn apart, strangers were in and out all the time, and it was imminent that he would loose his half acre yard. Skippy being a dog couldn't understand what was going on, but it was clear he knew something was wrong because he acted up more than ever. After the house was sold I stayed with my dad for a week to help him move out, Skippy and I didn't hit it off. The stupid dog would stand at the top of the stairs and growl at me, glare at me, snap at me, and sit outside my room as if daring me to try and leave without losing an appendage. At that point in time Skippy was just starting on an anti-depressant for dogs called clomipramine, the only anti-anxiety drug FDA approved for both humans and their canine counterparts. Every morning my dad, the only person Skippy got along with, would slip the pill into a Vienna sausage and Skippy would unknowingly scarf it down. Thank heaven there is no law about force medicating your dog.

A few weeks after this Skippy was still in a stressful situation, but something had changed, I was Skippy's best friend. I would come over to the new house to visit and Skippy would jump up and down with excitement, wag his tail, and bark with joy. To my amazement I started to love the little mutt, I guess it wasn't hard to forgive him because I love dogs.

Now about six months later Skippy is off of clomipromine and I am still Skippy's best friend. I don't know if it is Skippy's now steady environment or the fact that getting away from Wesley, Desiree and Sarah is bound to normalize anyone, including a dog. One thing is certain, the clomipromine helped transition Skippy. Today he is a relatively normal, happy dog. He'll dance in time to Buddy Rich, play in the snow, watch the Raiders loose, and gobble up the doggy breath mints he got for Christmas. Skippy still has a temper, a tragic side effect from being abused, but its clear that he is the loving dog he always could be.