Winston's nervous breakdown

The other day we took our dog to the vet and asked, in addition to the examination, if they could keep him overnight so we could sleep.
Winston, our basset of some nearly 10 years, is having a nervous breakdown. Or at least a very severe anxiety attack.
Even the pills many people give their dogs during monsoon season to sedate them during thunderstorms don't work. He spends his days and nights panting, pacing, whining and trembling.
I think this summer of detox, pain pump surgery and the subsequent trial of rejiggering Ken's pain med mix have taken their toll on Winston.
He's always been very emotionally sensitive and needy, like the rest of us.
He's been the steadfast, tail-always-wagging, emotive dog that follows Ken's every move and could sit beside him 24/7 having his back scratched or his head petted.
But lately, he's taken a turn and it's not been good. His tail is frequently down, not wagging. He has poddy issues, as in he goes on the carpet. Frequently. Yesterday he couldn't even gather the wherewithal to jump up on the couch, something in the past he would have done enthusiastically. He spent the day panting, whining and staying as underfoot as he could as we followed us from room to room.
The vet concurred that he's got something that in canine language is akin to anxiety. He's on some kind of doggie Xanex that won't probably really take hold, if it does, for a month. He gets it twice a day.
But, as with Ken, there is progress. Teeny, tiny progress.
And I've decided rather than homicide, I will be understanding and reassuring.
Last night, he was able to jump on the couch, although he stood up on the cushions and faced away, not even understanding that it's customary to sit on a couch, curl into a nice ball and/or lay your head on your mistress's lap.
Eventually, hours later, he assumed the normal dog-on-the-couch position. And for a while quit shuddering.
Last night he slept through the night. He only paced and panted for a few minutes.
This morning, as if he forgot that he's suffering from anxiety attacks, he wagged his tail and for a moment was the old, happy-go-lucky, happy-to-see-you-and-be-alive-in-this-world Winston. Then he remembered and began panting, the sight of a doggie bone being offered him too much to cope with.
We're a house of healing this summer. Stepping our way to healing one little jump-up-on-the-couch at a time.