Imagine this, the latest issue of Modern Dog Magazine shows up. Marc sets it on the table after going through the mail. I’m pretty excited that it arrived because, the magazine is awesome and, well, I really like getting mail from a place that isn’t asking us for money! I glance at the magazine’s front cover and the first thing I see is this, “CANINE IQ: How Smart is Your Dog?” I laugh and cringe all at once. At first I’m pretty sure that I already know how smart my dogs are but then my mind starts recapping some of the scenarios that I’ve already shared with my two faithful readers here. Now the IQ question has me wondering if I really do know how intelligent the dogs in our house are!
Let’s see what we can come up with as far as this whole IQ thing. We have three dog-areas in our yard. A small area, a medium area, and another area where they all can co-exist. For clarity sake, we’ll call that the big area. Each area has a gate with a flip latch. You know, those latches that look like a horseshoe? Yea, one of those. When the gate is open, the tortoises can accidentally close the gate while they’re doing their daily laps around the yard. Keep in mind here that the gate isn’t latched; just pushed to look closed. None of the dogs have figured out that they can simply push it back open. Instead, they act as if it’s latched. All they need to do is graze the gate when they walk by and it’ll open. Hell, a strong wind will push it open. Yet they stand there looking at the rest of the yard like they’ve been banned from it. I know, I know, this doesn’t mean they are unsmart. I agree. Or at least I did agree until I remembered this next little fact; when the gate is latched, Crispie can flip the latch up and will open the gate! Carson can do the same thing. Yet they stand in the group looking pitiful. How smart can they be?
I know most dogs do this next thing but it still amazes me with ours. They know when it’s time to eat. During the week, they eat at 4am and 4pm. On the weekends, it’s 7am(ish) and 4pm. If those times are not adhered to by Marc and me, it will definitely be brought to our attention immediately. Can they secretly tell time? When it’s time to eat in the afternoon, Crispie starts an extremely pitiful whine. It’s a low, aggravating, skin crawling, hair pulling, non-stop, pigeon type noise that doesn’t stop. Even when she knows her food is being put together, she keeps conducting this horrendous assault on your eardrums and then she gets louder! She also adds a lip quiver, which I’ll admit is pretty funny. She goes on and on and on until she has her bowl. I’m positive she has a goal and driving us absolutely insane with that noise is all part of her plan. Maybe she thinks we’ll go faster. Maybe she thinks the next feeding will be earlier? Maybe she thinks she’ll get her bowl first next time. Maybe she’s delusional and isn’t as smart as I give her credit for.
If you’ve never had a tortoise then you need to know this: When they poop, it “looks” like grass rolled up into the shape and size of a computer mouse. It’s no longer green like grass nor does it smell like anything resembling grass. Basically it looks like grass but smells like poop. See, you have some fun and you learn a little something here! Now, I can only assume that our dogs think tortoise poop is a new super food for them. Every one of them eats it. They love it. The only food that I believe I love as much as my dogs love tortoise poop is chocolate. Yes, my love for chocolate equals their love for grassy poop. Them eating it is bad enough but for some reason, they feel the need to bring it in the house to eat. Something I forgot to tell you is that when tortoise poop gets wet, it smells even worse. The stink gets stronger. The grossness here comes in two variations. One is that they bring it in, take it to the sofa or dog bed, and tear it up aka play with it as they eat it. It smells so nasty. It’s like a cloud suddenly floats over the living room. Not a pretty, fluffy, full of wonderful raindrops cloud. No. It’s more like a toxic, ready to release acid rain on the living room cloud. The other variation is they eat the poop outside and their breath is horrific from it. I’m talking, chow down like they’re at an all-you-can-eat buffet amount of poop and then come in and breathe in your face. Yup, it happens all the time and if I was a betting person, I’d tell you they do that on purpose. I mean Ryder comes in and walks right up to me. Remember, he’s huge and I’m short so when I’m sitting and he does that, his mouth is even with my face! Yea, tell me that’s just a coincidence. Then, when I’m on the sofa, Carson will come running in and jump in my lap. Also remember that he is small so when he stands in my lap, his face is even with mine. Again, coincidence? Not a chance. I can only assume this is some type of dog-owner Karma that they’ve all ordered for me! It’s gotta be payback for something like having them neutered! Hmm. You know what? They might have a much higher IQ than I originally thought.
Hudson is our newest “foster failure” through M.A.I.N. He came and never went and the boy is so funny. Unfortunately for Hudson, he’s kind of not the brightest tool in the coloring box or whatever that saying is. Here’s a for instance. Bedtime means treats when he gets in his crate. A little bit of trivia here about Hudson is that he gets very focused when food is involved. Recently, as I opened the bedroom door he went running to his crate. Normally that would work. He gets in, I give him a treat and close the door. However, on this particular night, in the very dark room, the black door to his black crate was closed. He ran right into the door and literally bounced off of it. I tried so hard not to laugh but I failed. I felt bad for him but it was hysterical. If he could’ve talked I know he would’ve said, “Did you see that shit?” Marc was sleeping within arm’s reach of us and I didn’t want to wake him. Unfortunately though, I began laughing uncontrollably. You know the type of laughing that brings on tears, makes your stomach hurt, and is a gateway to hysterics? Yea, that’s what was happening. I ended up waking Marc and I couldn’t even explain why I was laughing so hard. Instead, I gave Hudson his treat and as I left the room, I found myself thinking that Hudson is cute as can be but he’s no rocket scientist.