Our dog Kobe is full of surprises. Ask any trainer who’s met him, and they’ll probably tell you: he’s an enigma. His body language says one thing, his emotions another—and just when you think you’ve figured him out, he throws you a curveball. Tara, our incredible CSAT (Certified Separation Anxiety Trainer), once told us that Kobe was one of the most unique dogs she’s ever worked with. And she’s right—he truly is. But over time, I’ve also come to appreciate that every dog is unique in their own way. No two journeys are the same, and that’s what makes them all so special.
Right now, as I write this, Kobe is peacefully napping at my feet—on his back, four paws in the air, snoring softly. It’s one of those small, quiet victories that means everything. Because peace like this didn’t come easy. Not for Kobe. And not for us.
The First Days: Panic, Paw-Touches, and a Whole Lot of Unknowns
Mike (my husband) and I met Kobe in 2021, when we agreed to foster a dog from a rescue group in the San Francisco Bay Area. The day I picked him up, he was a panicked mess—barking, backing away, refusing food. The rescue staff loaded him into my SUV, and as we drove away, I was told that he’d been dropped off the night before, left alone in a tiny room after a chaotic few months of being shuffled between hotels with his previous family.
His name was Kobe. He was 10 months old. And within hours, we realized he was about to turn our world upside down.
During those first few weeks, we learned a lot about each other. Kobe was goofy and smart, an early riser and an escape artist. He loved food and adored our other dog, Hansyn. At night, he’d fall asleep with one paw resting on my hand, just to make sure I was still there.
And that’s when it hit us: Kobe couldn’t be left alone.
Discovering Separation Anxiety (and What We Didn’t Expect)
The first time Mike stepped outside to take out the trash—literally five seconds—Kobe went into full panic mode. He ran through the house, howling and panting, checking every door. Even a bathroom break sparked anxiety. He would’ve traded all his treats for a glass door, just to see Mike the whole time.
After two weeks, we made the big decision to adopt him. We had no idea what we were signing up for—but we knew we were all in.
I started by reading Separation Anxiety in Dogs and enrolling in the Mission: POSSIBLE course. We went from five seconds to seven minutes. But soon, we hit a wall. That’s when we reached out for 1:1 help and began working with Tara Houser, a CSAT who turned out to be an absolute lifeline.
A Training Plan as Unique as Kobe
Kobe’s training plan was anything but typical. Along with separation-related distress, he also struggled with generalized anxiety, so every mission required serious prep. Think hiking adventures, 20,000 steps a day, and a rotating menu of enrichment activities just to get to a place where we could start.
In those early stages, Kobe barked and howled through most of our absences. He’d sit in a down by the door, tail wagging, ears flopped—looking relaxed to the untrained eye. But we quickly learned that with Kobe, body language was tricky. His signals didn’t always match what he was feeling. Sometimes, it was a tantrum. Other times, it was genuine panic. And figuring out the difference was part of our puzzle.
Tara was instrumental in helping us read between the lines. Together, we discovered that Kobe’s journey wouldn’t follow a linear path—and that was okay. He didn’t destroy furniture. He didn’t hurt himself or have accidents. But he struggled in ways that were quieter and more complicated to detect. We found ourselves tracking the tiniest shifts: how often he’d yawn, whether he rested his chin on the floor during a down, how long he took to settle.
Watching the “Kobe Movie” and Learning to Let Go of the Rulebook
We spent a lot of time watching the “Kobe Movie” from the car. Sometimes for hours a week. Hoping it would be boring. Sometimes it was. Often, it wasn’t.
Progress came in waves. It took months to get to one hour alone and several more to get to two. All missions had to happen between 12pm–4pm—his sweet spot. And we never would’ve gotten there without the ability to work from home and dedicate entire chunks of each day to preparing, executing, and recovering from missions.
Eventually, we realized we needed more support. Kobe began working with veterinary behaviorist Dr. Sophie Liu, who helped us understand how Kobe’s brain processed the world. He began medication—multiple doses a day, fine-tuned over time—and while there were some bumps (including a few stressful side effects), we slowly found our rhythm.
The Wins We Never Thought We'd See
Today, Kobe can be home alone for around five and a half hours. He still throws the occasional tantrum when we leave, but now he settles quickly. He’s even expanded his alone-time window from 8:45am to 9:15pm. Those milestones felt impossible at one point—and now they’re part of our everyday life.
And yet, our journey with Kobe isn’t over. We’re still working on his anxiety around people and new situations. We still plan around his needs. And yes, there are days when it feels like a lot. Days when I sit in the car, feeling overwhelmed and wondering how we’ll keep this all going.
But there’s also so much joy. Kobe is brilliant—he learns new cues in minutes and remembers them for life. He’s a pro at airplane travel. He’s also the softest snuggler I’ve ever met, and when he rests his head on your chest, you feel like you’ve been chosen.
Community, Commitment, and the Power of Hope
Supporting Kobe has taken a village—Tara, Malena, other CSATs, Dr. Liu, and friends who stepped up to help, even when Kobe wasn’t easy to be around. And through it all, we’ve seen him blossom.
If you’re reading this in the middle of your own separation anxiety journey, please know this: it might feel impossible right now. But little by little, change happens. You may not see it daily. Sometimes it’ll feel like you’re stuck. But one day, you’ll look down and see your dog napping peacefully by your feet, and you’ll realize how far you’ve come.
This work is hard. But it’s worth it. Kobe is proof of that.
