A Comparison of Canine and Human Existential Dread
Dog Anxiety Series
On the intersectionality of dog anxiety and owner anxiety
With a dog and owner pair, there are 4 possible states of anxiety. 1. Dog anxious, owner not anxious. Involves everyday objects/situations that are fearful to the dog but not the owner. Rain for instance, or pigeons or balloons. 2. Dog not anxious, owner anxious. Involves everyday objects/situations that are fearful to the owner but not the dog. The dog does not read and has not studied economics. But the dog does see the owner habitually and fearfully stare at paper (bills, jury summons, tax audits), and then set the paper in piles, all around the house. The dog has tried to destroy one pile. The dog was scolded. Yet this state of owner unhappiness is why the dog was brought in—bring in the cavalry, to alleviate the stress of sad, dangerous paper, that to the dog, is generated by a metal gizmo (mailbox), that the dog barks at whenever they meet. 3. Dog anxious, owner anxious. The anxiety here is usually causal. When the dog is in distress, like real medical distress, like has swallowed a large red ball belonging to someone else’s human child, a ball that will not pass through the dog’s colon, the owner must use all possible resources to pay a professional to extract said ball and to buy the human child a new ball. 4. Dog not anxious, owner not anxious. The ideal state for the bond. The bond’s core, impetus, engine and raison d’etre. Happens on walks, hikes, early off leash hours at the beach. Happens when each party least expects it. Like after leaving the dog in the car to pump gas, the owner returns to find the dog in the driver’s seat, with a paw on the wheel. The owner laughs, a laugh the dog knows the full texture of and could identify, blindfolded, from a row of other owners, without a dog’s hair of doubt.
On why the dog fears rain
The dog was not afraid of rain until he was 5, which in dog years is 36. At 36, a person has answered many of their logistical questions. Where to live and who to live with. How to behave (or not) in public. The dog has a forever home and is walked thrice a day. But at 36, regardless of how well one thinks one’s life is going, an internal fork is reached—to carry on or to pursue change. Such changes include but are not limited to a new job, a new spouse, a new country, a new child, a new dog, or a self-given sabbatical, say to the top Instagram-able places of the world, as recommended by Instagram, that concludes with a month-long baking class in Paris. The dog was not about to do that, so fear of rain is his way to cope with mid-life. Rain with thunder and lightning is no worse for him than rain itself. Once the first drop hits, he cowers in a corner and shakes. In response, the owners must swaddle him, that is wrap four human arms around him, while one owner feeds him a popsicle. When all else fails the dog retreats to the unlit bathroom and sits behind the door, panting at his human lunatics.
On why the dog barks at pigeons
The dog barks only at pigeons, no other bird species. The amount of discussion the owners have given this topic could constitute a peer reviewed paper. Pigeons have strange red, rimmed orange eyes. They move their necks weirdly and travel in flocks that seem to have no limit in size. Once the owners walked past a huge flock of maybe thirty pigeons, and they braced for the dog to lose his mind. But he sulked far and away from the flock, tail down, head down, and while the birds stared at him, the owners realized that there is a critical mass to his barking, after which there was only fear. Fear or anxiety? The owners debated this too. Fear is the response to a perceived threat whereas anxiety is the response to a threat that has not yet occurred. The owners wish the dog could differentiate for them and guide them through how he evaluates threats. This would be most helpful to their research.
On why the dog barks at balloons
Much like with pigeons, the balloon colony must reach critical mass. One balloon and the dog barks with vigor, two, four, even six are within limit. More than six, and the dog goes sullen. The owners wonder if it is the discrete number of balloons or the cumulative volume of trapped helium that so offends the canine, and to test this question, one owner bikes to the nearest Party City and buys as many balloons as he believes he can bike with, which is way more than he can actually bike with and way, way more than the other owner expects or they had discussed. Anyway, the owners perform multiple trials. Six small balloons versus six large ones. The dog barks at both. But the addition of a seventh, regardless of size, silences him. Hence, the owners conclude that the dog must know how to count but not how to calculate spherical volume, 
On why the dog barks at leaf blowers
Leaf blowers never used to cause the owners anxiety but after living with a dog that barks at them, leaf blowers now exist in the dog anxious, owner anxious quadrant (alongside large red balls belonging to human children). In the month of October, in New York, leaf blowers are more active than sirens. Every street features one, wielded by an accountable building super who is just doing their job. The owners appreciate that this job must be done. The owners live in one such building with one such super. But here’s the disagreement. Owner A believes that the dog barks at leaf blowers because they are loud. Hence owner A renames leaf blowers, Loud Tubes. Owner B believes that the dog barks at leaf blowers because they blow wind. The dog barks at hair dryers, so owner B renames leaf blowers, Wind Sticks. Over nomenclature, the owners have argued. Like argued-argued, to the semantic death, as if there is something real at stake. And there is. The sounds of leaf blowers are the sounds of their childhood. Boring, suburban, a childhood they escaped and, by design, will never return to. They will never own a Loud Tube/Wind Stick, as their parents did. They will never own a car or a house with a shed out back. They will never complain about the ‘normal’ things like yard work, snow shoveling, mortgage, or that stupid shed out back. They are in this city forever and sometimes that feels exclusive as the city has a lot to offer and people are always coming to see them (to see the city). Other times, they feel trapped in their rent stabilized apartment that still costs astronomically more than apartments in any other city, with a dog who barks at lots of things but would be thrilled to live anywhere with the owners, really anywhere, even a tiny cardboard box, at the edge of the world.