The Canine Calmer Makes River Song Nervous

My parents think Pocket and I are both too nervous. I don’t believe that is true. The only time I am genuinely anxious is when my parents leave the house. I don’t know where they are going or what they are doing, but I do know they are two homebodies vastly unprepared for the wicked world they have to travel through. They are so naive they could be taken in by a stranger with candy, brought to an undisclosed location, and kept away from us for weeks, which means I would miss 857 meals. Pocket gets nervous too, but only during the time between sunrises. 

A surefire way to stop a dog’s separation anxiety is for our parents never to leave the house, but humans never choose the easy option.  They search for ways to combat our stress, which includes experimenting with ridiculous products that wouldn’t make it past the first round of Angel Tank.  My parents, because I am such an influential blogger, are sometimes given products to rate. The good news is that both my parents are illiterate, so I am allowed to write an honest review.

 My parents were sent a product called “Calmer Canine.”  Upon hearing the name, I immediately grew excited because I thought it was going to be a big box of hemp.  I was chagrined to discover it was a harness with a small strip that connected the top and bottom parts. On the top of the harness was a pole with a halo attached.  I wanted no part of this contraption, but I am a small dog, and I am quickly forced into doing what I don’t want to do. 

First, they slipped the harness behind my front legs, then they velcroed the single half around my chest, and adjusted the halo, so it was above my head.    Mommy was reading the directions. “Her halo is drooping,” she said. “It has to be right over her skull.” Daddy held the halo-like he was trying to disguise the fact that I am a fallen angel.  

 They asked me if I felt anything, and  I didn’t, except for terrible humiliation.  Mommy read that the halo is supposed to send out  “a microcurrent signal which is invisible and sensation free.”   I would argue that the reason something is invisible and sensation free is that it doesn’t actually exist, but what do I know.  I am just a dog. “It says here you have an out of balance brain,” Mommy told me. Sure, they were putting me in a harness with a halo that gave off weird vibes, but I was the one with the out of balance brain.   

They were supposed to make me wear the contraption twice a day for fifteen minutes.  If you wear it for fourteen, there is no change, and for sixteen, your head will explode.  It only took my parents one session to decide that this product, which has zero scientific studies behind it, was another contraption created to separate worried dog parents from their money.   The cost of the halo harness is $229.00. If your parents are that interested in humiliating you, they should send all their money on 50 bumblebee costumes. It will work for anxiety too. If you are hiding under the bed from the embarrassment, you don’t have time to feel nervous.

The Canine Calmer was not a totally useless product.  When it is windy outside we put in on Pocket, the breeze catches the halo, and we fly her around like a little kite.  It is kind of awesome.