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It’s been a while since I’ve talked about my dogs, most specifically our chocolate Labrador Retriever, Rebel. She’s still around, and we still love her, but she is our problem child. I’d like to have her intelligence tested because I’m pretty sure she’s smarter than a fifth grader.
On her second day with us, Rebel learned how to open our back door from the outside. It’s a levered handle, and the door opens inward. She mastered the art of leaping upon the handle until it opens, then sauntering through.
Recently Rebel’s learned how to open the front door from the inside, which I thought was impossible. It’s also a levered handle, and the door opens inward. Rebel has figured out how to leap upon the handle while pulling it toward her until the door opens inward. Then she prances through the doorway and takes off across the front yard. We live on a dead-end road with three houses that runs into a much busier street with a constant stream of semi-trucks. Living in a small town, I’ll admit we don’t lock our front door, except at night. But all that has changed.
I don’t mind locking my front door, and I know in today’s world it’s something I should have been doing all along. And I’m curious why Rebel can pull the front door inward and go out, but she can’t execute the same action with the back door. Or is it that she won’t do it? Maybe she enjoys making me get up and down to let her out all day. She might not be smarter than a fifth grader, but she sure is just as stubborn.
Recently, John shared a meme with me with an adorable Labrador under the words, “It isn’t until you take a walk with a Lab, that you realize how much of the world is edible.” I laughed as I cried, because it’s spot on. Rebel has eaten plastic cups, eyeglasses, earbuds, remote controls, stuffed animals from my kids’ childhood, John’s hats, a package of ribs thawing in the sink, a package of Hawaiian rolls, John’s wallet, several books and magazines, my toothbrush, a box of tissues, a roll of toilet paper, several pairs of shoes, several pairs of socks, and a button off my shirt. Not my shirt, for which I am thankful—just one button.
Before we got Rebel, a friend of mine confessed she left her Lab in the backyard until the dog turned three. I found that cruel and unusual punishment—now I see it as self-preservation.
John recently shared another wise quote. “Anyone who has two dogs always has one sweet, gentle, kindhearted, old soul. And one crackhead.” We got Ruger when he was six weeks old. At eight months he was driving us crazy with his high energy and constant need for affection. Our twelve-year-old Sadie was our old soul and Ruger was our crackhead. We bought Rebel to divert Ruger’s attention and maintain what little sanity we still had.
Interestingly enough, Ruger has matured into an old soul. He and Sadie lounge on the living room floor while the crackhead lies on her back and peddles all four legs in the air. Sometimes the old souls bask in the backyard enjoying the sun, while the crackhead leaps into the air and tries to devour the sidewalk. Most of our sanity has flown out the door with Rebel. We coaxed her back inside, but our sanity took off down the road.
Jann Goar Franklin graduated Russellville High School in 1989. You can reach her at jann@jannfranklin.com