So, it’s been a year of Harper. We’ve survived. Truly, she’s the most overly opinionated, wildest, most anxious animal I’ve ever met in my life. If you’ve been in person with me, you know that I refer to her nearly all of the time as a hot mess. That’s her, hot mess Harper. When I got Harper from the Long family, she was a quiet, sweet, shy little dog. Amy always said she was full of snuggles, and had many kids in her home, so she was used to people. When she came to live with me, the first couple weeks were extremely quiet, as Harper settled in to our family. Then, she was settled, and what came out of that I can only describe as madness.
You see, Harper is literally the smartest dog I’ve ever met. She’s become a creature to habit and routine, and if you disrupt it in the slightest, you’re guilted for hours. Like, for example, I’ve become a little too reliant on Doordashing dinner to myself. So, every single day, around 8pm, Harper paces and cries until someone delivers our food. Why would she care? Well, because I’m a sucker, and she knows that there’s food for her as well. And yes, she cries. She’ll whine, so even if I’m not Doordashing, I’ll consider it, just to make her stop whining.
I don’t know why she wants to have things delivered so bad, because she barks at the slightest noises as if there’s 57 ax murderers trying to break into the house. There’s not. There never has been. But if there were, Harper would be ready.
She’s also weird. Like, very weird. She’s got some weird obsession with black men, but won’t come to them. They have to chase her around the house, and then she hides, but if they aren’t giving her attention, she cries. I mean, same Harper, but still. She hates licking you, well, me. So she just lays her entire face over the top of mine, as if to say “this is a kiss”, and like, I just get a mouthful of ear fur… She does it a lot.
Her newest thing, is not letting me use the bathroom unless she’s sitting on my lap. Part of me is like awww, but the other part if me is like, what the hell is wrong with you? Until yesterday. Yesterday, she jumped up for my lap pee. Jumped onto the sink, went onto the back of the toilet, and sat there in a panic because how the heck did she get herself into that position. She’s a disaster, but the best kind.
I do love her though, so much. Her excited spin as she waits for a treat, how she rolls onto her back when I put on her collar to go outside, the way she sleeps in my bed, curled up next to me like I’m the best mom in the world, and the way she just looks at me. I know she spent a lot of time alone with her previous family, and that’s why I adopted her, but Harper saved me. She makes me crazy, its true, but she also makes me so thankful for her.
Lately, her anxiety has become insane. The need to be touching me at all times, as if she’s a two year old child. I check the cameras, and she often stares at the door, or paces waiting for me to come home. It makes me sad, but I think I’ve created this ultra-reliant monster, who wants nothing more than to just get love and affection at all times (which is truly what dogs deserve, right?) I think I’m going to need to bring it up at her next vet appointment, and put her on some puppy Lexapro or something. They say, when you hit 30 you should have a dog, anxiety, and a dog with anxiety, so I’m 3/3.
We love you Harps.