“The cat’s taking Prozac, and the dog’s on CBD.”
That was the headline on a recent article buried deep inside this past week’s Tuesday issue of the New York Times.
My daily newspaper reading strategy involves glancing at the bold, larger-font headlines throughout the newspaper. Then a little later, I go back with a handheld magnifier to absorb the details on anything particularly beckoning or seemingly relevant to my life.
This article met both criteria.
I do not envision ever having a cat (although an 80-year-old neighbor confined to her small condominium unit, and in her second week of testing positive for COVID, tells me her 28-pound cat is keeping her sane.) It’s my dog that keeps me sane — that would be the dog that takes two fully loaded droppers of CBD oil each day.
Due to a relatively rare neurological condition, syringomyelia, Lucy is anxiety-ridden. This has been a tough year for her, so she might have anxiety separate from her chronic health condition. Either way, supported by advice from three separate veterinarians — as well as “atta girl” comments from my sister, also a veterinarian — I purchase packaged CBD online in two-bottle quantities.
The CBD modifies Lucy’s symptoms, which include phantom scratching, three-legged walking, night-panting and heart-wrenching vocalizations — suggesting she is either…