Sunday, November 16, 2014

Canine Comedy Hour

The dinging of a timer bell is a common sound in our household. The microwave timer sometimes goes off several times in short succession if I'm keeping an eye on something and unsure how long it will take to cook. Same thing goes for the oven timer. I also set the oven timer throughout the day so I won't forget soft drinks being quick-chilled in the freezer or Oliver, who always wants to stay outside a few minutes longer than the other dogs do.

Levi has decided that the timer is important, maybe because I stop what I'm doing and get up to tend to something every time it sounds. In fact, he has appointed himself Timer Monitor. When that bell dings, he stops what he's doing, too, and presents himself at my feet, presumably to call my attention to the timer's signal or, possibly, to let me know he stands ready for duty should I need his capable assistance.

I think that's pretty cute. Last night, however, it became problematic. Not for me, but for Levi.

All four dogs were asleep in the living room when I tuned in to watch Vegas ER. Have you ever noticed how much beeping there is in a hospital emergency room? Every time a piece of medical equipment beeped, Levi woke up, climbed off the sofa he'd claimed all to himself, walked over to where I sat and reported for duty. It took a time or two before I noticed what sound he was responding to, and he seemed confused when I didn't jump up in a hurry to do something about it. He'd stand there looking at me for a minute, then return to his place on the sofa.

I watched two one-hour episodes in a row. I can't tell you how many times Levi showed up at my feet, but it was obvious that the frequent sleep interruptions were getting to him. Each time he came to me, he was more dazed and confused than the previous time. I tried to explain to him, the way I explain when the dogs respond to a barking dog or ringing doorbell on TV: "It's a TV noise." He didn't get it. He was so tired by the end of the two hours that I felt really sorry for him (hugged him a lot), but that didn't stop me from cracking up laughing.

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A similar story:  All four dogs rushed over to my desk the other morning when I watched a video that featured yelping puppies. Lucy, Oliver, Levi and Gimpy all barked their concern for a moment, then three of them wandered away. Levi stayed behind just long enough to push past my knees and do a quick puppy-search under my desk. He's responsible, that one. And thorough.

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Oh! I almost forgot to tell you one more funny thing that happened last night. Gimpy was asleep on the other end of the sofa I was sitting on. The constant ER bells on TV didn't bother him at all, but he tends to participate actively in his dreams. At one point, sound asleep, he started running, his legs moving slowly at first, then faster and faster, stretching himself out to a full-length hard run before suddenly trying to stand up. Fortunately, he woke up just before he flung himself off the sofa. He looked sheepish for a second, then flopped over and went right back to sleep.

My life would be so boring without these dogs.


Gimpy (left) and Levi.

6 comments:

  1. Aren't dogs just the best?! I love these stories.

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    1. Thanks, Betsy. Dogs ARE the best. Feed 'em on time, throw 'em a tennis ball, and they're happy. Wish that worked for people.

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  2. Those boys (and one little girl)! How cute they are and how full of personality. I can't imagine life without mine.

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    1. Annette, you should have seen Levi last night when I sat on the sofa to eat dinner. He climbed up and sat right next to me, perfectly erect, nose pointing straight ahead, never looking at me, looking at my plate only occasionally out of the corner of his eye--but every few seconds he licked his lips. "Puh-thup, puh-thup." Being a good dog is SO stressful!

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  3. Velvet--sister's gone! She crossed the bar.

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    1. Oh, Betty, this is such sad news. Patsy's blog is the first one I ever read that was written by someone near my own age. Even then, back in 2006, she wrote that she didn't expect to live long. I'm glad she was able to squeeze out another eight years of wit and wisdom before she crossed over. Hugs and condolences to you, Helen and Fleta.

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