I think my dog is confused about her job

One of the ideas I came up with when I was suffering from the worst of my panic disorder was “I bet I’d feel safer if I had a big dog.” Looking back on it adopting a dog at 20 was a horrible idea, but I’m of the firm school of thought that once the commitment is made it’s for the next 12+ years …so we’re 3 in. Almost. She’s still got a month until her third birthday. Oh, yeah, I also thought it would be a good idea to buy a puppy (well at first I wanted an adult but she was suuuuch a cute puppy and she was all fluffy and snuggly and cool looking and…I’m a sucker) when what I wanted was a big protective dog. I spent the first year protecting HER. Damn it.

So anyway, back to my brilliant plan. I spent hours thinking of the cool stuff I was going to do. I was going to have a beautiful intelligent dog that walked alongside me leash or no leash. She would know when I had a panic attack and she’d come calm me down with big fluffy dog-snuggles.

Somehow I ended up with …

…this.

When I have a panic attack or am sad or am otherwise in need of my big furry companion… she rolls her eyes and walks away from me.

Dick.

When someone walks into the house, she wags her tail and peeks to see who it is. If it’s a stranger she thunders downstairs to see if they brought her food. When no one is walking into the house and there’s a creak or a rustle or someone talking outside in their own back yard, she has a complete meltdown and alerts the presses.

I don’t know about y’all, but when a dog starts freaking out the assumption is “SOMEONE IN THE HOUSE AND THEY ARE GOING TO COME KILL ME AND THOSE STUPID REPLICA ZELDA SWORDS AREN’T BATTLE READY AT ALL.” …maybe that’s just me.

She’s a big dog, about 50lbs, and I used to proudly think if a stranger came into the house with a big axe and a ski mask and whatever else a stereotypical murderer comes into houses with she would smack ’em around like a hellhound and call the cops for me and perhaps make me a cup of tea to calm my nerves while we waited.

Now I suspect if they came in and were male (she really bonds with guys instantly) and said “hi puppy!” and offered her any manner of treat she would lead them right to my room and helpfully knock me out for them to murder with a wagging tail.

So now despite having my big dog I can’t walk into a room without turning the lights on, I have to keep things crammed under my bed so no one can hide under there, and I feel defeated because I do all that while tripping over a clumsy canine who can’t seem to stop being underfoot despite standing almost thigh-high.

I get my revenge, though.