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Wonder Dog

Poor Wonder Dog is so blind. He bumps his way along any room or outside moving slowly and inching along until he gets to where he wants to be. He trips over himself and everything else, sometimes ending up banging the wall or in the outside planter but he never gives up. We’ve had to rescue him from the closet doorway (he was thinking it was the hall so he’d march forward, hit the wall, back-up and then try it again like something had changed) and have found him stuck behind bushes in the back yard. Hunky hubby even found him with his head stuck between the legs of a chair, which is 1/2 a foot away from the doorway. He always misses his mark by justthismuch. And I’m constantly asking Fussypants to put his toys away so not to boobytrap the dog’s pathway.

I’ve heard that when you lose one sense, the others kick into high gear to make up being down one but not really the case with Wonder Dog. His sniffer doesn’t work any better then it did before and sometimes I think it’s worse. You can put food right in front of him and he still has trouble sniffing it out, making a huge sloppy mess trying to lick all around where he thinks the food is. And his hearing is not super hero strong either, which is probably a good thing or else he’d be barking at every single noise and creak he heard.

Last week I stayed up late to watch the Series Premieres (yes, capitol letters) of Vampire Diaries and Fringe. I spent two solid hours jumping out of my skin and getting completely and utterly freaked out, texting my mom and dear friend Kara D. about the wonderfulness of it all and then I fell asleep and deeply (it was a week night and so past my bedtime). About an hour into my sleep I sat straight up in bed (hunky hubby was working) and swore I could hear footsteps in the hall that sounded like a grown man but what really made the hair on the back of my neck stand up straight was the low, tough-guy growl coming from Wonder Dog, who is normally fairly silent (aside from the bumping and tripping into and over everything). I thought “Oh sh*t…super UN-bionic ears also hears something” and freaked myself out even more.

Right before I had decided if I was grabbing the phone or the gun (armed household we are) to somehow get to Fussypants before the intruder got to me, Fussypants rounded the corner of my bedroom, rubbing his eyes. Clearly my sleep state had tricked my ears and Wonder Dog’s into thinking that a 2.5 yr old could make heavy footsteps.

It took me awhile to fall back to sleep.

The next morning, Fussypants heard Wonder Dog bump into something and said, “Mommy, Caleb scared me” and I asked, “When, last night when he growled at you”? And he nodded so I assured him that Wonder Dog was just doing his job as guard dog and that the next time he wakes up he should call out for me and I’ll come get him. His response was “Ok, but the Pirates were getting on my ship”.

I guess I know what book not to read him before he goes to bed.



  1. So sad to see a loved one going through that (even when it's a dog).

    *hugs* up the 5 to you and Capt. Fussypants.


    ps – Fringe was even scarier this week! It harkened back to shades of the X-Files ep where they had the mom under the bed.

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