Thursday, March 15, 2018

I'm Watching You

Our beloved canine companions have a job that they perform with amazing dedication: they watch us every single minute of every hour of every day. My fox terriers are particularly adept at this task, and as I noted years ago, I haven't peed alone since my first fox terrier joined my house (Harry in 1998). Mimi insists on accompanying me to the bathroom each morning when I shower and get ready for the day, so I just gave in and keep a small dog bed and blanket permanently installed there for her use. 

Archie is a relatively independent little dog but he is in no way aloof. He loves affection and attention. Even so, I really didn't understand the extraordinary depth of his attention to me and my actions.  

A few weekends ago, I was getting ready on a Sunday morning to head to campus for my weekly peer tutoring session in physiology. Physiology is a first-year course, and a very difficult one. Every year, two or three students drop out or fail because of physiology. I've been providing these tutoring sessions to two years' worth of first-year students. The college pays me a pittance for my time, so it's not about money for me. I do it because I enjoy it, and because review of fundamental principles is always helpful, no matter how much you think you know about a subject. Anyway, I was getting dressed that morning, and without giving it much thought, pulled on a pair of comfortable cotton pants. Archie immediately began to run from me to the closet where his agility training bag is stored, back and forth, back and forth. It took me a while to figure out what was going on. The pants I had chosen to wear that day were pants that I normally only wear to agility trials in the winter and spring. They are loose enough so that I can wear thermal underwear and my knee brace underneath them without constriction, and black in color so they can get as gross as I need with dog slobber, treat bits wiped off fingers, and dirt, and still be reasonably presentable. 

I had to pick my jaw off the floor when I figured this out. Archie watches me so carefully that even my selection of clothing gives important information to him. 

Just in case you think this is a fluke, I have a second example. Yesterday, a Wednesday, was our last junior surgery lab for this term. It was a long day, but with finals looming next week, my study group wanted to meet and we decided to meet at my house. I got home and was bustling around the house trying to straighten it a little bit when I noticed Archie again running back and forth between me and the closet containing his agility training bag. 

I figured it out quickly--it was Wednesday, one of the nights he goes to agility class. Really? Really, does my dog know what day of the week it is? I think that he does. While he doesn't know minutes or hours or days as specific things, he is able to track the passage of days to the next class. He knew that we should be getting ready for class on that day at that time, and was letting me know, hey, I'm ready, let's go!

Of course he was quite distracted when the study group arrived and snacks were being passed around the room. But these two events have made me think more deeply about the information that I am giving my dogs. Frankly, the unanticipated association that I created for Archie of specific clothing or days of the week with the excitement of agility is one that I want to preserve, not dilute with false promises.

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