Monday, July 23



Television, Telephones, Daylight Saving Time: Things My Dogs Don’t Understand.
By Alex Carrier

“There is no one out there,” I assure my madly barking dogs as I open the front door.

They peer out suspiciously, stretching themselves to look onto the porch with only their twitching snouts crossing the threshold.

They look left. They look right. They look at each other and then turn their heads to stare at me intently.

What have I done with the person at the door? The one who rang the doorbell?

“It was just the television,” I tell them, then repeat it very slowly. “It was just the television.”

My dogs sit and gaze at me expectantly. Why am I trying to convince them that the doorbell they heard was on the noisy, somewhat interesting box in the den when the doorbell is at the front door?

They continue staring at me until I distract them by suggesting they go into the backyard and chase the squirrels. They are happy to cooperate.

Later, when the dogs have come inside to block my way by lounging across as much of the floor as they can fit their bodies; the phone rings. They do not move so I pick my way carefully through tails and paws to reach the telephone.

The minute I begin speaking, my pups jump in a flurry of black and white fur to race to my side and begin barking at me.

“It’s just the phone,” I tell them patiently as if they can understand the concept of a telephone any better than the concept of a television.

I argue this point with my mother each time she calls and spends much of our long distance telephone time fussing at her dog while he fusses right back at her.

“Mother, are you alone in the room?” I ask.

“Yes,” she says.

“Well, you are alone and talking and the only other creature in the room is the dog, so, of course, he thinks you are talking to him.”

“After all,” I continue emphatically as if this time Mom will acknowledge the logic of my argument “dogs do not understand phones!”

She agrees but continues fussing at the dog telling him to give it up. He doesn’t. Neither does she. The talking, fussing and barking continue until we hang up.

At 4:30 in the afternoon, the true test of my pet patience begins. One dog starts pacing. She follows me from desk to door to desk, her nose against the back of my knee.

It is nearing 5:00 PM and she knows it is time for her dinner. She paces more and starts panting in badly suppressed excitement. The other dog joins her and they both pace and pant and stare at me intently.

Actually, doggie dinner time is at 6:00 PM but, alas, the dogs do not understand Daylight Saving Time. They remain doggedly on Standard Time and are circling me like sharks in anticipation of a meal.

Being the human-in-charge and the Alfa female to boot, I am unrelenting and ignore them while I wait for 6:00 PM DST to arrive.

I know they do not understand. They are just dogs.

My girlfriend and I are exploring these phenomena of nature an hour later as we try to chat on the phone but find ourselves continually interrupted by husbands who must tell us or ask us something right now and children circling like sharks and inquiring if it isn’t time for dinner.

They are wonderful husbands and children. We know they do not understand. Perhaps the dogs can explain it to them.

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