Orson the Chow - July, 2007

This month, Orson answers the call of one Cincinnati family with a dilemma he’s sure is shared by many. They write:

Dear Orson,

Recently our six-year-old son, Hoover, has discovered a new game.  It’s called “sneak up on the sleeping dog and scare the c**p out of him.” My husband and I are at our wits’ end. I’ve tried everything from explanations to scoldings to extra chores. I’ve even threatened to take Hoover out of his summer camp, but nothing seems to work.  I’m afraid that our male poodle, “Twinkles” is going to develop a complex. I make sure that no episode goes unnoticed and that our son understands that what he’s doing is wrong, but he seems determined to “play.”

We’ve had Twinkles as long as we’ve had our son. If we have to let one of them go, I don’t know what we’ll do.

Why is Hoover doing this, and what can we do to save our family?

Please help, Orson, we trust your judgment.

Sincerely,
Stumped in Cincinnati

Orson responds: 

Dear SiC,

I’m glad you trust my judgment. Perhaps you should have consulted me before naming “Hoover” and “Twinkles.”

Seriously, there are a number of possible explanations for your son’s behavior.

Freud might say that as he enters his oedipal phase, your son is driven by his desire to “possess” you and to “dispose” of his rival: in this case, his father.  Confronted with the reality that the latter is not an option (hopefully you will explain to him that the former is also not an option), he must vent his destructive impulses in some other way. Freud calls this “displacement,” and it can actually come in handy, just not in this instance.

Your son picks on Twinkles because he can. He’s bigger stronger and smarter (just like dad).

There’s more. Your son has also discovered that with each episode of “play” he gets your undivided attention, and since he senses that “possession” is not an option (you’ll still need to have a little talk at some point); “mom time” suits him just fine. You may think you’re punishing him. Trust me now, it’s the opposite. So what to do?    

Freud would likely explain this all to you, suggest that you establish and enforce a clear set of boundaries regarding parent/child roles and interactions, and then wait little Hoover out.  Four out of ten times, little boys grow out of their infatuation with mom and decide what they really want is to be just like dad.

Orson thinks you need to be a little more proactive. If your letter has been inspired by the possibility that your family may have to press on with one less member, taking Freud’s route is likely to set you up for massive expenses when Hoover (if you still have him) hits puberty.

Orson suggests this:

Your child is trying to tell you something….listen. Children are great communicators, but they don’t always use words. Do not look at Hoover’s “game” as the problem. Hear it as his way of telling you that he is experiencing a problem somewhere in his world. Freud was right about a couple of things. At his age, Hoover is experiencing an increased need for attention and he is likely to put difficult emotions into action rather than into words.

Orson suggests that you take a look at the home front and see if there have been any recent changes that might make you and your husband less available. Also, stress is a part of life. If Hoover gets too much wind of the stress that his parents experience, he may be “sharing” his discomfort with Twinkles. Be aware of what you let Hoover see and hear.

You mentioned camp. Talk to Hoover about camp. How do the other children treat him? Does he have a friend? Did he even want to go? Hoovers “game” could be alerting you to trouble at camp, or to his fear that you don’t want him.

It may take a village (or a good dog) to raise a child, but it takes a family to prepare a child for village life.

Orson’s bottom line: love your child, love your dog, but make sure your child feels loved by both mom and dad. Hoover may want a little more “mom time” at the moment, and that’s OK as long as dad stays in the picture and “family time” is a regular part of  “family life.” Take some time to find out what Hoover’s life is like and how he needs you and your husband to be a part of it. 

Twinkles will thank you for it.

Chow!

(NOTE: Orson the Chow’s advice is not intended to be taken in lieu of professional counsel. Indeed, he recommends professional assistance, as it is likely that only after an endeavor of this type will readers fully appreciate the sublime perspective of..........the dog.)