Today was supposed to be the day of my workout resurrection, the day I got back to the basics and started hitting the gym in the mornings. But instead, I was too tired (and a little sad) to make it to the gym this morning. I spent about five hours this morning laying in bed listening to the panicked activities of my dog. And it's all because of the damn bugs.

I think my dog is insane. I know people have said that statement before and meant it as a humorous commentary on the behavior of their pets. Perhaps their pets are funny, possibly behaving contrary to the norm. But I really mean it; I think my dog has some mental problems, possibly canine paranoid schizophenia with accompanying hallucinations. I know animals can have mental disorders. A friend of mine had a small dog that developed some kind of mental problems. She desperately wanted attention, but she would bare her teeth and shiver when you petted her. She'd sit for hours, staring out the window next to the front door, shivering. She became snappish with people, and when she snapped at the couple's new baby, it was time for her to go. So I really believe my dog may have a problem. He has undergone a personality change over the past few years. He used to be politely reserved with strangers, interested in children, excited about other dogs, and generally spoiled rotten and bratty. Now he is shy around strangers, snappish with children, aggressive with other dogs, and...well, he's still spoiled rotten and bratty.

He has anxiety attacks. He will run from room to room, throwing frantic glances over his shoulders, panting wildly, sniffing and snorting in search of what may or may not be there, shaking, occasionally crying and whining, and eventually stuffing himself under the nearest bed in terror. In the throes of his fear, he has actually had grand mal seizures. It is heartbreaking to watch. Thankfully these attacks are not commonplace, but when he gets going there isn't much to do other than wait it out and comfort him as best we can.

We think it's because of the bugs. As a younger dog (he's seven now), he loved to chase, play with, and eat bugs. They were fun; they were sport. Bugs in the house were tracked to a convenient location and then pounced upon (or snatched out of the air and devoured). But then, when he was about two or three, he made the mistake(s) of going after some of those big reddish-brown wasps. They had gotten into the house, probably built a nest somewhere, and the dog was too tempted to resist. Several times we came home to find his muzzle, jaw, or the entire side of his face swollen up from the stings. Sometimes he'd go a day or two without eating because of the pain. Once his face was so puffy his eye swelled shut. These events affected his outlook on bugs in the house. Outside, they are no threat, and he will still occasionally snap at them as they fly by. But inside is another story. Even the smallest fly, mosquito, or gnat drives him to paroxysms of terror. He'll still snap at them, but as soon as he does it he runs into the bedroom howling and hides under the bed.

But when there is a "real" bug in the house, he can pinpoint it. We'll see it at some point, and the dog will spend most of his time in the room hunting the bug, or running away from it. But we've started wondering if all the bugs he runs from are "real" or not. The times he gets the most panicked, my husband and I never see the bug that's causing the ruckus. The dog races from room to room, throwing panicked looks in every direction as though he's beset by a pack of demons. There is no safe place in the house, and instead of staying wedged under the bed in relative safety, he spends a lot of time scratching at the front door, looking for an escape from the house. He came to us on the bed several times last night, shivering and darting his eyes from side to side, hoping that we could protect him from whatever was coming to get him. Heartbreakingly, we can't really make him feel any better, and so he'd jump down after a few minutes and continue his restless prowling from room to room. When I took him for a walk, he did everything he could to prevent our return to the house, laying down in the grass, hanging his head and digging in his heels to make me drag him, and halfheartedly trying to get me to play so he wouldn't have to go inside. It made me want to cry. No dog should be afraid of going in his own home. He was so upset that I'm surprised he didn't frighten himself into having a seizure.

His fear of bugs has ruined some of the things he's liked the most. He used to love riding in cars. Now he obsessively stares at and occasionally licks the rock chips and water spots on the windows, making sure they aren't bugs clinging to the glass. He used to love the drive-thru windows at fast food restaurants (I mean, nice people lean into your car and give you FOOD! How awesome is that?!) but then came the day that a fly flew through the window while we were getting our food. The dog about tore me up trying to hide under me.

And I don't know what to do! I mean, can you take your dog to therapy? Can they give a dog prozac or valium? I wish there was something I could do to make him feel better. Poor baby. It breaks my heart.