When we went to puppy class, if our trainer said it once, she said it 100 times, “Dogs do not understand English.” Yeah, right. Tell that to Chet. Chet, who immediately goes to the freezer if you even mention the word “popsicle”. Chet, who immediately starts digging around in his toy box until he finds his sewn-up three times, very much loved dragon when you say, “Chet, where’s your dragon?’ He’s definitely a dog who understands English.
Sadly, though, this is not always a two way street.
It took a little while but I’ve come to recognize the whine that means the ball or the bone is stuck under the bed. I’ve come to understand the bark that means it’s time to go outside to play. Once, I heard the unmistakeable bark that clearly meant something was amiss and he was protecting his mama from some unforeseen, grave danger. Granted, the danger turned out to be our across-the-street neighbor’s front porch light playing tricks through the beveled glass of our front door but that’s beside the point.
I thought we had an understanding. I thought we were on the same page. Apparently, I was wrong.
For the past three nights, our precious puppymonster has been more monster than puppy. He barks over nothing; he barks over everything. And let me just tell you, the concept of “inside voice” means NOTHING to this little guy. He barks like the house is being invaded by aliens. He barks like whatever critter is after him has caught him and is ripping his toenails out through his ears. Keep in mind, he has these fits without moving! He doesn't even get up to investigate; he's just laying there on the floor looking around. It seems he tunes it up about the moment we find the perfect depth of sleep. So, startled out of a great sleep, we jump up, check on him, check on the house, and come to the conclusion that the only thing amiss is our precious puppy. And we go back to bed (but not back to sleep, of course, because we'd just prepared to fight off the demons of the apocalypse). And an hour later, when we finally feel ourselves returning to a state of normal adrenaline, we start to drift back off to neverland and it begins again.
I’m hoping this is just a temporary phase or that we figure out the cause of the mystery barking soon. I’m pretty sure my sanity depends on it. Until then, we love the little monster so we’ll just stock up on the earplugs…
I hope that all of the noises in your home are happy; and that all of your days (and nights) are filled with something curious, something mysterious, something MORE.
