This post is inspired by another blog I read this morning.
Dogs are smart. Most of us think otherwise; we see them do some incredibly dumb things. But in those things driven by instinct or by breeding, they can be quite intelligent… in their own doggy way.
In 1999, Scott and I became dads to two White German Shepherd Dogs. They were so cute at 8 weeks old… big bundles of soft, snow white fur with black little eyes and black little noses. We adored those two, and I suspect we’ll never quite feel that strongly for any other pups. That we lost both of them at very early ages was crushing to us. We named them Savannah and Travis.
It was about the time they were 8 or 9 months old that we caught on to the sharpness of their instinctive intelligence. Scott and I were out, and Pam, our friend with whom we shared our home, was home alone. Pam was a pretty tough, feisty little lady. Only 4 feet tall, she’d have ripped the gonads off of anyone who messed with her, and fed them to the offender had she been so inclined. But, no matter how tough one is, it’s always nice to have a little added protection!
So, it was late evening, a dark night. Pam had the windows open, and the lights in the main room were out. Savannah was at her post, lying beside Pam facing out into the main room. Travis was at his post, across the room facing the door, also lying down. Suddenly, Savannah’s ears perked up and she raised her head, sniffing at the air. Travis, who always lay in such a fashion as to see the front door and at the same time keep Savannah in his line of vision, took his cue from Savannah’s heightened state of alert and rose to his feet, hunched down, hackles up, ears back.
Pam related later that night when we got home that Travis began silently roaming the perimeter of the room, stopping periodically at the open window. The windows in that old room were level with Travis’ head on the inside, and just about head height to a man or woman on the outside.
So, anyhow, Travis began making the rounds of the room, stopping at all the doors to listen and peer into the darkened room beyond, then moving on, coming to a stop at the open window. Here, he would hunch down so his head was below the sill level, and lift his nose to sniff. Then he’d do the circuit again.
After a few circuits he moved in beside Savannah, lowered to his belly and took the same stance as her… but she would rise, hackles up, ears back and start the rounds, repeating what Travis had just finished.
Pam related that this happened for about 10 minutes, every now and then the one guarding Pam would emit a very low rumble, barely audible to Pam, though obviously quite audible to the other.
When about 10 minutes had passed, both dogs dropped to their bellies and began edging towards the open window. By now, Pam had reached for her phone. The two dogs moved to inches from the window, lying on their stomachs with their ears and noses alert. By now Pam could hear the gravel of the driveway crunching under someones steps.
Now, I can only imagine how this transpired. I see myself sneaking up on an open window. It’s dark inside. I get to the window, put my hands up on the sill and pull myself up to peer inside. Before I can even focus my eyes, two white ghostlike and HUGE dogs appear in front of me, all teeth, and growls and barks.
Pam said she heard the man emit a high squeal, and then heard nothing but the sound of running footsteps retreating into the night.
Pam swore to me the two dogs looked at each other with grins on their faces then went and returned to their posts. Savannah by Pam, facing out into the main room; Travis at his post, across the room facing the door, also lying down.
2 years later, just days before we lost Savannah, I saw very similar behavior at our new home. The story is too similar to relate, but both took turns guarding and patrolling, before sneaking up and scaring the crap out of a prowler, so I know what Pam said is true.
On The Road II 