Drugged Doggie

I feel a bit like a failed mother, but our options were getting slim. We began medicating Millie today.
I love her dearly, but last week I said to Lee, “I don’t care if it’s her or me, but somebody’s got to get a happy pill.” He has often said the same thing. Millie has a long history of separation anxiety. Sometimes, she seems better, then she’ll relapse and be so upset again. Medicating her is partly for us, because she is a lot to handle when she gets like that. But it’s also for her. I feel horrible when I have to drag her out of some hiding place and into her crate when I go to work, as she shakes and whines. But we can’t leave her out of her crate, because her separation anxiety sends her into a rampage of destruction.
I think at least trying the medication was the right choice, but I feel like it means I’m not a good parent. Maybe a better parent could’ve worked with her more and not resorted to pills.
Lee and I also worry about her losing her personality. I don’t want her to lose her spunk, just her spells of insanity. Lee called me this afternoon after he’d given her the first pill, concerned. He said she immediately fell onto the floor into a dead sleep, and twitched. This isn’t very uncommon. She has two speeds – asleep or running – and she does both with gusto. Still, he was constantly checking to make sure she was okay.
Tonight she seems like normal-dog Millie, which is a good thing. I guess we’ll see tomorrow when it’s time to go to work whether or not the pills are having any effect. If not, I’ll start taking them for her.