Dog Talker

     Here’s a secret:

     I can talk with my dog.

     Like, really talk.

     You might be thinking, yeah, sure, talk to your dog? A lot of people talk to their dog.

     And you’d be right.

     But like I said, I can talk with my dog.

     We understand each other as clear as you can smell shit when you step in it.

     Earlier today, Rex said to me: “Mom, I gotta pee. Can we go for a walk?”

     I was working when he asked, as I am every weekday between the hours of 830 and 430, recruiting recently graduated accountants to work at some company or another. Every day, I’m allowed a 45-minute break for lunch. Rex usually dictates when I take that break. Today, he came in and made his announcement around 11:30.

     “Yeah, of course, bud,” I replied. “Now’s a good time. Nothing on the calendar for another two hours. Let’s go for a walk! Hang out with your friends Christopher Walken and Walker Texas Ranger.”

     In response, Rex wagged his tail, did a little a spin, said, “Oh boy!” and bolted for the front door where his leash and collar were waiting. As I gathered a few poop bags and my phone and keys and what not, Rex said, “Hey, can we do the loop around the woods by Creek’s Pond?”

     “You’re the boss,” I said, knowing we both knew who the real boss is. “Sounds great.” 

     Now, Rex is a real mutt. For my birthday a few years ago, my mom got me a DNA test so I could learn his genealogy and know for sure what breeds ran through his blood. Before the test, I guessed he might be part cattle dog mixed with maybe lab and a few others in there. When the results came back, I learned Rex was 25% Malinois, 17.5% Corgi, 8.75% Pug, 8.75% Border Collie, smaller parts Korean Jindo, Labrador Retriever, Jack Russell Terrier, American Staffordshire Terrier, Poodle, Great Dane, and Chihuahua, and the remaining 25% is unknown. He hovers around fifty pounds, has a tan, white, and grey double coat, can keep up with any dog at the park, and, provided he’s had a good run within 24 hours, can lay around the house and snuggle with the best of them. His energy perfectly matches whatever environment he’s in, and he’s the only dog I know that can win a staring competition. He’ll stare through your soul from across the room if you try. He disarms most people by often sporting a composed happy smile, allowing his tongue to ever so slightly stick out of his long and athletic mouth. The right half of his face is mostly tan, the left half is grey on the bottom, and, starting right below his eye, transitions to white on the top. If you’re a good human, his dark brown eyes are wise, kind, inviting and loving. If you’re bad, his eyes and jowls and demeanor will make you want to leave the area. Rex mostly goes on my cue to determine if someone is really good or bad, but every now and then, he’ll step in and tell me something I’m not seeing. He listens to me, provides comfort when I need it, and gives more love and joy than the average human could ever understand, unless, of course, they got a dog. If I had a nickel for every time he’s been called a good boy by me and so many other people, well, let’s just say I wouldn’t have a crippling amount of student loan debt.

     I’ve been able to speak with Rex since the moment I met him, back when I would go to my local ASPCA to meet the dogs they were sheltering.

     I was in the routine of going every week, whenever they brought up more dogs from the south, in the hopes that I’d find a dog I just clicked with. I definitely wanted to rescue a dog, but only if I felt some undeniable connection right off the bat, like I’d heard in so many rescue stories.

     Mind you, talking with dogs across the board is not something I am able to do. I’m no Doctor Dolittle. So I don’t know why, but I just could with Rex. 

     Walking through the shelter that day we first met, I heard the standard sounds of the shelter – a few dogs barking here or there and the meows of a few cats. A few seconds in, though, I heard a distinct voice coming from in front of me, which was weird, considering the only other human in the room was standing behind me. As I walked closer to the voice, I heard, “Hey! Hey! Can you hear me? Come say hi to me!”

     I turned over my shoulder to the ASPCA volunteer. “Did you hear that?” I asked.

     “Hear what?”

     “That voice. Someone asking if we could hear him?” I didn't say this to the volunteer but it was a happy and curious and hopeful voice.

     The ASPCA volunteer gave me a puzzled look. “Uh,” they said. “I heard that dog whimpering…”

     Not wanting to sound insane, I shrugged it off and walked over to the dog the volunteer said was whimpering. As I approached, the voice became clearer and was coming from that exact dog. “So you can hear me,” the voice, this beautiful dog, Rex, said. “Oh that’s a relief. Now don’t be alarmed, but other people just hear me whimpering or barking like a scared or confused or anxious or excited dog. But you, thank Dog, you can really hear me!”

     I didn’t know what to say. I honestly thought I was going insane.

     But, it was undeniable. There was a connection between us.

     “Ok,” Rex said. “I can see and smell you’re a little shocked. You don’t have to say anything. But please, you gotta get me out of here. If getting a good dog is what you’re looking to do – and I can smell that it is – you ask Pat the volunteer behind you if you can meet me.”

     “He looks like a good boy,” I said, acting on instinct, turning around to Pat. “Can I say hi?”

     “Oh Rex,” Pat the volunteer said, but with a slight bit of cautiousness, “Yeeeaahhhh. He… is.”

     “Don’t mind Pat,” Rex told me. “Pat’s not sure about me. A few people were interested in me, but I didn’t like the way they smelled. I growled when they approached the cage and changed their mind real quick.”

     Pat unclipped the keys from their belt and unlocked the door to Rex’s cage.

     I stepped in, got down on my knees to be on his level, and Rex unleashed the happiest smile I’ve ever seen. He started shaking his tail and spinning in circles and jumped up into my chest and licked my face over and over again, wiggling and waggling all the while.

     “I’ve never seen him act like that before!” Pat said, with genuine happiness. “I think he likes you!”

     “Oh who’s a good boy?” I said, not answering Pat’s remark, but instead focusing my attention on Rex. “You’re a good boy. Aren’t you?”

     “You’re Dog damn right I am!” Rex replied, in between licks on my face. "I'm a good boy!"

     After putting on a good show, Rex finally calmed down and stopped jumping on me. He leaned his butt into my knees and stood there, panting and smiling. He was leaning into me so hard, if I moved my leg away, Rex would have stumbled over. “Ok. You can feel it too,” he said, looking up to me. “I can smell it on you. There’s a connection here. I know how this goes. Tell Pat you’d like to take me for a walk, to see how I’d behave.”

     I did as I was told, walked Rex around the outside of the facility, him perfectly on my heel the whole way, and within a few hours and after a decent application process, Rex was sitting shotgun and I had a new best friend.

     On the way to the pet store from the ASPCA, Rex said, “I hope you’re a good driver, because I don’t see a seatbelt in here for me. I trust you.”

     Rex and I have been practicably inseparable for five years since.

 *

     Not wanting to create a whole big thing out of it, I decided not to prove to my friends and family that Rex and I could really communicate with one another.

     Proving it, by the way, would be easy. Like last month, I had a picnic in the park with my girlfriends. Because of what Rex told me, I could have been like, “Heidi, you had oatmeal for breakfast, with blueberries, peanut butter, bananas, and Greek yogurt.” Rex could smell it on her. Or I could have called Sandra out on a lie. She said she came to the picnic from home and she didn’t really do anything last night, just hung out and chilled on the couch. But from what Rex told me, I knew she was with this new guy she met the night before. Rex told me he could smell that she spent the night with this guy and she quickly ran home to change before coming to the park, and that she didn’t shower, which is why he could smell all of this on her with such detail.

     But again, I don’t want to make a big thing out of it. If my friends and family knew that me and my dog were talking the way we were, well, the news would spread and with the internet these days, it’d be a whole big thing I’d rather not deal with.

     The biggest way it has affected me, to be honest, has been with regards to my love life.

     As I said before, Rex is a pretty good judge of character. And, wanting to protect me more than anything in his world, he takes special care to judge the men that enter my life as romantic interests. I notice he smells anyone I’m attracted to with a bit more scrutiny than my other friends.

     I guess he knows that if a romantic interest were to hurt me, the hurt would be a bit more impactful than the type of hurt a friend could inflict.  

     The first guy I brought home after I adopted Rex – Marc – well he wasn’t a bad guy or anything, but still, Rex wasn’t digging it.

     When we walked in the door to my house after our first dinner date, Marc made every effort he could to get Rex to come say hi so he could give some pets. “Aww, hey Rex,” Marc said. “Come on, buddy, let me pet ya.” He held out his arms and I genuinely thought he wanted to meet and pet my pup.

     But Rex sat a few feet away, staring blankly at Marc. Then Rex looked up to me and said, “Come on, mom. Now, I’m not saying he doesn’t like dogs, but I’m telling you, he’s not a dog guy. He doesn’t give a shit about me. He just wants to hump you."

*

     Now, over the years, Rex has opened up to some guys, and those tend to be the ones that I go on multiple dates with. In some cases, I even “dated” these guys for, like, a few months or so. But even with those, Rex would let me know, always about a week before it happened, if we were going to break up. Twice, it was me breaking up with the guy. Once, well, I didn’t want that one to end, so when Rex told me it was going to, he did so with a heavy heart and lots of kisses. Six days later, Cameron broke up with me. He said there wasn't that spark he was looking for and that he didn't want to waste my time. Rex was extra snuggly following that, nuzzling up to me as I devoured ice cream watching reruns over and over again.

     Of course, Rex rescues me when I need it.

     Just a few weeks ago, I ended things with a real asshole, Nick.

     He wasn’t an asshole at first, of course. He was cool and hot and charming and, let’s be honest, he made me feel things.

     I was a bit tipsy the night I first met Nick, and, unlike how I normally go about things, I brought him home on account of those things he made me feel.

     Like the good dog mom I am, when we got home, I told Nick I had to take Rex out real quick, and that he could help himself to anything to drink.

     While we were outside, Rex told me, “I know what you’re doing, I can smell it, and I don’t like it. This guy is bad news. I can’t confirm this, but I think he’s the guy I smelled on Sandra the other day.”

     I didn’t want to hear it. I told him if he’s not sure, then it’s probably not the same guy and that he was just being overly protective. Then I said, slurring my words only a little bit, “And if you can smell what I’m up to, then you can smell it’s gonna happen Rexy. I’m getting’ some sexy times. And if you don’t like that and you want to keep saying something about it, well, don’t. If you do, you can stay outside or get put in the bathroom.”

     It took two weeks for Rex to be proved right, as always.

     Now, I wouldn’t say I was falling for Nick or anything, but he was definitely the best in bed I’ve ever had. So when Rex broke the news, well, it sucked.

     Nick was late picking me up for a date, by a long time, like an hour, so when he finally pulled up, Rex said he wanted to get a good smell before I headed out for the night. I lied to Nick about needing just a few more minutes to get ready, which was silly considering how late he was, and asked him to come inside for a second. Immediately after giving Nick a good smell, Rex said, “I’m sorry, mom, but Nick just came from Sandra’s. They were humping.”

     I confronted Nick, without saying Hey my dog can smell that you were just fucking one of my good friends, what’s up with that? I made some general and vague remarks and honestly, it didn’t take much for Nick to snap. He admitted to it, said he didn’t know I was friends with Sandra, and whatever, if I wanted to be such a jealous bitch, then, well, it wasn’t worth it. He stormed away towards his car and out of my life. Rex wanted to rip his throat out for calling me a bitch.

     Like I said, that sucked.

     But thanks to Rex and his outlook on life and his teachings, about staying in the present and enjoying the gifts of life as they are presented to me, it didn’t take long for me to get over it. I knew life would go on and clearly Nick wasn’t the type of guy I was looking for, long term, and that Rex would be there for me every step of the way as long as he walked the earth.

     And yeah, just earlier today, for our daily walk we went to Rex’s favorite local loop in the woods at Creek’s Pond. There, something great happened.

     As we were concluding the loop and getting to the big open field where the dogs like to run around together, a dog we’d never met before came bolting from a few hundred yards across the way. The pup’s human on the other side of the field was shocked by this and ran after his pup, yelling for her to come back as he followed her trail.

     Without him telling me, I could see Rex had a good feeling about this pup. She was about his size, another mutt, and they just circled each other several times, nose to ass, smelling Dog knows what. They were both wagging their tails as if they were long-lost siblings reuniting after being separated at birth.

     I heard Rex introduce himself and me and a bit about us to this new dog. Then, to my shock, I heard this dog’s response! “Happy to meet you, Rex. I’m Maple. That’s my human running across the field. I normally don’t ignore his calls like this, but clearly we had to meet. His name is Eric. Him and I can talk together, too.”