There are very few times a year when I'm not super sociable, or enjoy spending time with other people.
One is 100% New Year's Eve – an evening that has been Nemo's signature for the last few years.
Because when you have a dog who is really New Year's Eve-fearing, all dog owners know how difficult New Year's Eve can be to get through – and how much focus it really requires to have a dog that needs more than ordinary effort to make the evening seem bearable.
And yes - of course we have tried 117 constellations of medication, calm, and other anxiety-relieving measures, from audio training on CDs to ThunderShirt - unfortunately with quite limited success.
Just as I have long since given up the idea of going out to visit some friends who live in a peaceful place or having a few guests myself.
Because I always end up feeling anxious about having to be there 110% for my dog and at the same time trying to be a little social.
And it's far from the best cocktail for anyone
Because the truth is that the helplessness you as a dog owner often end up feeling when it's thundering and roaring outside just doesn't make it possible to be present in any other way than right there where your dog can be glued to you.
That's why this year we celebrated the most mysterious constellation of New Year's at home.
Which was designed to match Nemo's need for me to be able to hold him for a few hours when he was at home - and where there was absolute peace and quiet.
An evening where we ate food from outside at 5 pm – so there was time to have fun before the teenagers went to a party far-hell-in-violence and the little ones went home to sleep.
It was an evening where I chose to have him only get Zylkene and ThunderShirt rather than be drugged (which incidentally makes him even more panicky), and where we were seen taping up cotton wool blankets in front of the last two windows that don't have curtains, and listening to music at full volume all night.
And honestly, if someone had looked at us from the outside, they would most likely have thought that now things are completely out of whack for them.
But previous New Year's pressures have brought us far from what works – right from a trip to Tuscany (where I can report that they don't shoot).
To last year's night trip to the beach by the North Sea, where (after miraculously avoiding getting stuck in the sand) we could toast and chat for an hour before driving back to the summer house – to this year spending midnight sitting in my dressing room (where there are very few windows), listening to jazz in the dark and sharing New Year's memories (from other silly New Year's Eves) and a bottle of champagne.
Actually a lot cozier than the many memories I have from many years of somewhat disappointing New Year's parties..
Somehow, trying to adjust the evening so that Nemo gets through well has become a strange new New Year's tradition.
Which is actually quite nice under the circumstances.
And the best part is that I had a happy and safe dog for almost the entire evening, who slept, ate an incredible amount of meat bones and snacks, and at midnight lay completely still in my arms.
It was all worth it!
I agree that people who don't have a dog definitely think it's going too far when you say you have to stay home with your dog for New Year's.
But honestly, that must be their business.
The most important thing for me is that my dog is happy and safe (period). Also on New Year's Eve.
So because it requires me to downgrade my own needs to drink and eat my way through the fence and fuel it with festivities that one time a year – so be it.
And upon further thought, I actually think that this New Year's Eve will go down in history as one of the coziest I can remember, with bubbles, good conversation, delicious food, good company and a (almost) happy buzz the whole evening - what's not to like?
About the blogger of the week
The author behind this week's DogCoach blog is Linn Radsted.
Linn is an independent consultant and serial entrepreneur of 8 years and has a Jack Russell terrier, Nemo, who is almost 7 years old, who is currently primarily a companion dog.
In addition to other projects, she is the founder and owner of DogCoach.
New Year in a dog's language
There are very few times a year when I'm not super sociable, or enjoy spending time with other people.
One is 100% New Year's Eve – an evening that has been Nemo's signature for the last few years.
Because when you have a dog who is really New Year's Eve-fearing, all dog owners know how difficult New Year's Eve can be to get through – and how much focus it really requires to have a dog that needs more than ordinary effort to make the evening seem bearable.
And yes - of course we have tried 117 constellations of medication, calm, and other anxiety-relieving measures, from audio training on CDs to ThunderShirt - unfortunately with quite limited success.
Just as I have long since given up the idea of going out to visit some friends who live in a peaceful place or having a few guests myself.
Because I always end up feeling anxious about having to be there 110% for my dog and at the same time trying to be a little social.
And it's far from the best cocktail for anyone
Because the truth is that the helplessness you as a dog owner often end up feeling when it's thundering and roaring outside just doesn't make it possible to be present in any other way than right there where your dog can be glued to you.
That's why this year we celebrated the most mysterious constellation of New Year's at home.
Which was designed to match Nemo's need for me to be able to hold him for a few hours when he was at home - and where there was absolute peace and quiet.
An evening where we ate food from outside at 5 pm – so there was time to have fun before the teenagers went to a party far-hell-in-violence and the little ones went home to sleep.
It was an evening where I chose to have him only get Zylkene and ThunderShirt rather than be drugged (which incidentally makes him even more panicky), and where we were seen taping up cotton wool blankets in front of the last two windows that don't have curtains, and listening to music at full volume all night.
And honestly, if someone had looked at us from the outside, they would most likely have thought that now things are completely out of whack for them.
But previous New Year's pressures have brought us far from what works – right from a trip to Tuscany (where I can report that they don't shoot).
To last year's night trip to the beach by the North Sea, where (after miraculously avoiding getting stuck in the sand) we could toast and chat for an hour before driving back to the summer house – to this year spending midnight sitting in my dressing room (where there are very few windows), listening to jazz in the dark and sharing New Year's memories (from other silly New Year's Eves) and a bottle of champagne.
Actually a lot cozier than the many memories I have from many years of somewhat disappointing New Year's parties..
Somehow, trying to adjust the evening so that Nemo gets through well has become a strange new New Year's tradition.
Which is actually quite nice under the circumstances.
And the best part is that I had a happy and safe dog for almost the entire evening, who slept, ate an incredible amount of meat bones and snacks, and at midnight lay completely still in my arms.
It was all worth it!
I agree that people who don't have a dog definitely think it's going too far when you say you have to stay home with your dog for New Year's.
But honestly, that must be their business.
The most important thing for me is that my dog is happy and safe (period). Also on New Year's Eve.
So because it requires me to downgrade my own needs to drink and eat my way through the fence and fuel it with festivities that one time a year – so be it.
And upon further thought, I actually think that this New Year's Eve will go down in history as one of the coziest I can remember, with bubbles, good conversation, delicious food, good company and a (almost) happy buzz the whole evening - what's not to like?
About the blogger of the week
The author behind this week's DogCoach blog is Linn Radsted.
Linn is an independent consultant and serial entrepreneur of 8 years and has a Jack Russell terrier, Nemo, who is almost 7 years old, who is currently primarily a companion dog.
In addition to other projects, she is the founder and owner of DogCoach.