White Dog buried her head under the couch pillow. "Make her STOP!" she demanded referring to her sister, Puff. Puff was having a high-strung day where everything in the Universe set her off on a high-pitched persistent barking marathon and she was driving everyone nuts.
I checked her over and found no sore spots or signs of pain. She ate well. Her eyes were bright and she was alert. But she found no comfort in being held or spoken to softly or having her furs stroked. She could not be bribed with treats. She did not respond to "Enough" or "Stop" orders. Worst of all, when she got REALLY going YoYoMa rushed to her side and sang along.
Poor Becks was greeted with Puff's wall of sound each time she came into the main house. Michael got the treatment when he came upstairs, put his lunch together, bundled up, and left for volunteering. SAWD barked at the washing machine; at the neighbor shutting her car door; at the house furnace kicking on. We would just get her quieted and resting still and some other noise or movement would have her back on her feet working herself into shaking.
It WAS driving all of the pups and humans to impatience and headaches.
And then Steve came home from work. Puff met him at the door and pranced at his side into change clothes. She laid at his feet as he scratched her ears.
Becks came in...not a sound from our Little Old Lady Eskie. Michael dropped the stack of pots from the shelf...not a peep. Steve went to the bathroom and a car alarm sounded down the street...Little Miss Puff began her nonstop barking again. White Dog went to the bathroom door and pushed it open. "Call her!" she ordered Steve. He did and Puff rushed to his side...and then was at peace.
Puff stuck by Steve like glue until bedtime. As long as she was able to be with him, she was fine. For some reason today, the anxiety of being separated from Steve turned her into a nervous wreck. We both cuddled her and kissed her goodnight. She laid down next to my side of the bed where she usually sleeps and was calm. "Sweet dreams,Little One," Steve whispered to her. "Do not worry I will never leave you."