If you asked me 5 years ago, I would have said that I do not think that dogs can tell time or determine what day of the week it is. Time and the marking time probably have no directly translation into the doggie brain. That being said, my dogs know something is up at certain times. Yesterday morning is a good example.
The wife and I (well mostly the wife) have been looking forward to the beginning of April all winter and spring as it marks the opening weekend of the farmer’s market in McKinney. Our routine involves heading out around 8:00 am (to get a good parking spot) and arriving as early as we can (it starts around 8). We hit the Chestnut Square (the host of the farmer’s market) tent first as they have a bottomless cup of coffee for only $1. We then head down the row to a place that sells croissants and similar bakery items and then we find a bench to enjoy our breakfast, sip our coffee and people watch. McKinney, our standard poodle, always joins us on these trips. She is a big hit as we walk around and we are often stopped by people asking about her or wanting to pet her. Most of the regular vendors know her by name (she is named after the town so she has a slight unfair advantage over other dogs). McKinney (the dog, not the town) KNOWS that it is Saturday morning way before we call her to head out the door of our house. She somehow picks up on clues in our behavior and puts 2 and 2 together and is very excited. She refuses to eat her breakfast even for fear of her being distracted and missing our exit. She is too funny. The clincher is when the other dogs are put in their cages and she is not. The tail really goes into high gear at that point in time. She does not get this way if I put the dogs in their cages just to take her for a walk on any other morning. She somehow knows that there is something different about Saturdays in mid spring and all summer.
In a sense, Nina (the Doberman) can tell time as well. For some reason, whenever I put my shoes on and stand next to the fireplace mantle (where I keep my car keys), Nina starts acting crazy. She starts to make these unworldly sounds, sounds that no Doberman should make (I often accuse her of being an embarrassment to her breed). She stays very near me or heads toward the front door and walks in small, quick circles as she does so. She is very insistent that she is going with me, wherever that may be. I usually cave but the few times I have not, the wife claims that Nina just sits near the door and whines until I return. This whole thing started years ago as during the summer months in Indiana I would make a run down the road to get frozen cokes for the family. She would insist on coming with me. I joked about leaving the car running with large amounts of money laying on the dash of the car and daring anyone to attempt to take the cash or the car (truth be told, Nina is probably worth more than my Buick anyway so she would be the thing worth stealing, not the cash or the car). Anyway, she got accustomed to going with me and somehow figured out my patterns. She does NOT typically act this way if I am making a run in the morning however. So, she has to have some sense of time.
A few weeks ago, some friends of ours invited us over. They wanted me to bring my guitar and see if I could help out their daughter with a song that she was going to perform in an upcoming church talent show. I had only been playing for maybe 2 months (and I explained that) but they wanted my help anyway. I was actually able to help (she was using the wrong fingering on the D chord) but in the end she decided to find a new song. Well, last night was the night of the talent show and the wife had mentioned that we might be able to come to give her support. I had long forgotten about this but when the wife arrived home from her 4 hour shift working as a consultant for Fromm, she reminded me that it was that night and that she had talked to our friend yesterday and again committed to possibly coming. She did not seem overly excited about it so I knew that a bargain could be had here. In the end, I promised to get pizza from Durkin’s if she agreed not to go. Since the son should not be eating gluten, I had to make a run to the store to get a gluten free pizza crust and various toppings so he could have pizza with us. I did not tell him about where we were going or the bargain that I had struck so that we all did not have to sit through 2 hours of “talent” at a church but once we were at the store he began to put 2 and 2 together. As we exited the parking lot, I headed toward home. He asked me why I was not turning the other way to head to Little Ceasars to get our pizza. I tried to explain to him how marriage works when I asked, “Do you honestly think that I got us out of going to the talent show by offering a $6 pizza and some crazy bread?” For the 5 minute drive home, I explained how things in a marriage really work and informed him that I would be ordering pizza from my wife’s favorite pizza place and going to get it.
Fast forward to the time to pick up the pizza. It is evening and I am heading toward the fireplace mantle so you know who (Nina) is going into her pre “I am going” quick circle mode. I do not mind taking her when I have places to put things so that she does not destroy them on the ride home. Frozen cokes fit nicely into the cup holders for instance. However, a large, pepperoni, Italian sausage, bacon, meatball pizza from Durkin’s cannot be easily put somewhere in the car where the 70lbs of dog won’t destroy it if I have to make a sudden stop or turn. I was explaining this to Nina (she was listening intently) when the wife jokingly suggested that I could just put the pizza in the trunk and still bring Nina. Nina, sensing this was her only shot, gave me a “Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaassssssssseeeeeeeeee?” look and off we went. It was a good thing the pizza was safely in the trunk as I did have to make a sudden stop on the way home and Nina ended up on the floor of the front seat (right were I had planned to put the pizza). The pizza, Nina and I arrived home safe and sound and we enjoyed pizza while watching the latest episode of Survivor.
In the end, all I think I can say is that our dogs know us better than we think they do and that in some way, I think they have a basic concept of time.
Jon
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