My dog Piper has always been. . . hearing challenged.
When off leash, he used to like to pick and choose what commands to hear. No matter what pitch I shouted "come here," it was never quite right and went "unheard" at least 25 per cent of the time.
Over the years I've gotten used to it and have allowed him some grey area with his off-leash boundaries. I would know that if he didn't hear me the first time, he would at least look in my direction the second time, which meant he would certainly hear me the third time and come when called, which he did.
His wandering became less of a concern for me as we got used to each other. I let him have off-leash freedom further away from me than I would any of my other dogs, and he learned to come on the third call. But over the last couple of months, I have noticed a change in our relationship. At first I thought maybe the wind was blowing in the wrong direction. Then I thought maybe he was just too interested in a scent he was sourcing. Then I realized it was none of those things; rather, he was beginning to lose his hearing.
Not only has Piper not been responding to his recall command, he hasn't even been acknowledging me with his usual head turn in my direction.
In the house, he has been uncharacteristically jumpy around sudden loud sounds, such as a pot dropping on the floor, the wind blowing a door shut, or me stumbling and cursing loudly.
It's as if he didn't even hear me moving about him until the loud noise was upon him.
My sweet, gentle giant is going deaf.
I guess I should have expected it. He turns 11 years old next month. But it is still heartbreaking for many reasons, especially because, being a bird dog, he loves to sit on the back deck in the evening and just listen to the sounds of the birds and watch them flutter about.
I think to myself that he will miss that, because I would.
But then again, maybe as he ages, hearing less of the world around him is what he wants and that is why it happens.
He was always a dog who was sensitive to sound. At one point in our lives together, we lived close to a very busy street. He would sit in the yard with me, but as soon as a loud noise such as an obnoxious motorcycle, racing car, or large commercial truck rumbling down the road, he would run back into the house, seeking the comfort of silence.
We have always been alike that way. Both Piper and I prefer the silence of nature rather than the noise of humans.
In any case, I have begun to alter my routine with him a little bit. When I enter a room, I call his name or give him a gentle touch if he is sleeping so that he knows I am there and isn't startled when I accidently make a loud noise.
When we walk in unfamiliar areas, I keep him leashed until I know it is safe to let him off leash without the risk of him running off and getting injured because he can't hear me alerting him to potential danger. I am also keeping his off-leash boundaries closer as I learn exactly how far a distance he can be away from me before he can no longer hear my voice. I am incorporating treats along the walk more often to keep his visual attention on me.
I am more aware on trails of who or what is coming from behind as he seems to not be able to hear the sound of bicycles or joggers along the trail. But when he is close to me we cuddle more. I offer physical affection more. I let him know I am still here even if he can't hear my voice as he once did.
At one time I joked he was a hearing-challenged dog, and now it seems he is.
Joan Klucha has been working with dogs for more than 15 years in obedience, tracking and behavioural rehabilitation. Contact her through her website k9kinship.com.
