My "only child" dog is a) sick; b) having an existential crisis; or c) upset that I'm suddenly gone for eight hours a day again.
When I'm home, Gatsby crawls up onto my chest and lays down with his head right under my chin. This is adorable and makes me feel completely needed, but he also makes it impossible to do simple tasks by doing this. When I'm getting ready to go to work or out with friends, he sits on my feet as I stand in front of the bathroom sink.
I think it must be very difficult for dogs to understand the lifestyles of their owners. All Gatsby is concerned with is food, sleep, going outside, and me. Since I'm gone, he has also decided that food is unimportant. He should adjust within about two weeks, if I recall last fall correctly, and hopefully before he starves to death. He is not too listless to eat bones, though, so I think he'll live.