Tag: dog tales

So, I get home after a long day putting out The Cranbury Press. Annie’s out with friends so I stop for some Chinese food (General Tsao’s) and a six-pack of Smutty Nose IPA. I walk in the door to shredded garbage.

Yes. I think I’ve mentioned before that I have a dog — maybe the smartest dog on the planet. Maybe the Houdini of dogs.

Some history: We’ve had Honey (pictured on vacation with us last month) for nine years and she has shown an uncanny ability to get into almost anything — including drawers and cabinets, from which she likes to take paper and food, closing the drawer or door behind her.

We thought we’d gotten around this when we renovated the kitchen last year, putting in a pullout drawer to hide the trash can. For a while, this worked — until about six months ago when she figured out how to open it.

Our solution? Put a heavy kitchen chair in front of it. That worked for another six months, until today. When I got home I found the chair — a metal, cafe-height chair — pushed away about 8 inches. The trash drawer was closed, but the bag and all of its contents were shredded and strewn through the kitchen into the den and the dining room. Yuck.

And we just had the rugs cleaned.

As I said, she’s too smart for her own good.

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An eventul morning that, unfortunately, is the culmination of a strange and difficult week for my dear doggie.

Honey, my often-too-active mutt, has suddenly lost her sight — within days, literally — and has gone from a dog that could out run a thrown tennis ball and catch it over her shoulder on a fly from 50 yards away to walking into walls and doors.

If that weren’t bad enough — and it’s bad, believe me — she managed to get out of our fenced-in yard this morning and wander up the block.

A little background: I get up at about 6:15 every morning with her to let her out. Our yard is fenced, so I just let open the back door and lie down on the couch for an extra 10 minutes of shut-eye before pouring my coffee and getting into my running clothes.

Often, she’ll either bark or body slam the back door when she’s ready to come in. This morning, however, she didn’t — and she wasn’t visible from the back window. I thought she may have gotten lost back behind the pool, confused in her sudden blindness, so I pulled on sneakers and jeans and went out.

That’s when I found the fence gate open.

The gate is always closed and Annie and I have no idea why it was open this morning. Honey must have nudged it somehow and then wandered off. This has happened before — though, she almost always wandered right to our front door, where should would take a seat and wait for us to find her.

This morning, however, she wandered up the street, and into the yard a couple of houses down. I was in full panic mode, unable to find her (she was obscured by a set of bushes), and not sure what to do. I jumped in the car and drove around the block, hoping I’d come across her and that she hadn’t been hit by a car.

Annie called me on the cell phone shortly after I left — our next door neighbor found Honey just across his fence (his dogs were barking, so he went to investigate) and he helped Annie corral her and get her back to our house.

Needless to say, it was not a good morning — made no better by the news that we’ d need to take her to a specialist in Red Bank and that we probably would not be able to take her to North Carolina later this month (we finally rent a house that allows dogs and she can’t go — figures).

So there it is. I’m still hopeful that the specialist will determine that it is treatable and that with medication she will regain her sight. I also know, however, that she will adjust either way.

I’m not sure, however, whether Annie and I ever will.

South Brunswick Post, The Cranbury Press
The Blog of South Brunswick
The Cranbury Press Blog

E-mail me by clicking here.