How to deal with abandonment

It all started this morning when my humans took me to the park for an extended period of time; I knew right away they couldn’t be trusted. They kept me out in the sun, brought me to the beach, distracted me with toys, and tried to tire me out. I noticed right away their efforts to make me weary and throw me off my game, but it didn’t work. Do they really think I wouldn’t know what was going on?

The moment we get home I notice the pathway to the bedrooms has been impeded, which is a sure sign they're planning something that doesn't include me. They always close the doors to the bedrooms when they leave me alone, which is unfortunate because I like to chew on the plants in those rooms while the humans are out even though I don’t think they like it.

I start panicking at the thought of being left alone and the humans notice right away. My ears are tucked back, my tail is not wagging as much as usual, and I'm hunching over to show just how pathetic I really am. I'm seeing my life flash before my eyes and they're laughing at me, how rude is that? It’s time to get my guard up, continue sulking, and camp out next to the front door. There will be no getting in or out without me knowing it. The humans keep calling me, trying to bribe me with treats and telling me to stop acting “weird, but I’m not falling for that kind of shenanigans.

I hear the cupboard where my food is kept get opened (I'd recognize that sound anywhere) and normally I would go running for the kitchen, but not today. I hear kibble being poured into my bowl and the temptation is almost uncontrollable because I love to eat, but I just can't risk it. All this drama means they’re making their move.

I hear them coming down the stairs laughing, giggling, and ignoring my attempts to get their attention. I start walking between their legs and giving all the kisses I can. I am not normally this affectionate, but desperate times call for desperate measures. It seems I'm too late in my efforts because their shoes are on, the keys picked up, and music is playing from the speaker in the hallway. They’re trying to call me over to relax and pick a toy from my goodie box, but I’m not moving from the front door. It’s the best place for me to be, because there is no way they can leave with me right h- well I’ll be. Before I realize it’s happening they’re shuffling past me and telling me to stay... STAY? FOR HOW LONG?

With a warm smile and a reassurance that they will return, the door closes behind them and I am alone. Naturally, I'm a complete mess. I start pacing. Walking back and forth the hallway floors, thinking about options for escape and checking the windows and doors for vulnerabilities. I know none of this has worked in the past, but it’s possible I’ve missed something. For a moment I consider how lovely a nap would be on one of my three beds scattered throughout the house. I think about taking the opportunity to sprawl out on the couch, which I’m not usually allowed on. I could play with one of my puzzle toys that I love, which I only get to play with when the humans are gone. I could even chew on one of my many squeaky balls that annoy the humans when they're watching the picture box. Finally, I come to my senses and immediately dismiss all those thoughts; the humans would just LOVE it if I did any of that.

Absolutely not. This is not the time to do things that will make both me and the humans happy, because they’ve abandoned me. Naturally, my only option is to lie in front of the front door and whine quietly until the humans return. How else will I train them not to leave me alone?