In the emails that led up to adopting Faith, Sheena made two comments that concerned me. Nothing bad, just things to watch out for. One was that Faith might have some degree of separation anxiety. The other was that Sheena wasn't sure sometimes whether Faith was eager to please because she is really easygoing or because she was afraid of getting something wrong. In the past two weeks I've been watching for signs of both issues, and finding neither.
Concerning separation, Faith seems fine so long as she is in a comfortable place. A crate, our house, and my car all seem to qualify as comfortable. She'll watch to see where everyone is going, and she does a happy dance to be let out, but there is no sign of distress or concern while she is alone. In short order she lies down calmly and dozes.
Actually, the one who gets distressed if I take Faith and leave him is Trevor - even if other people are in the house and paying him attention. He has a very impressive suite of complaining whines and barks. He's fine with her getting attention, but he is distressed if she goes with me and he is left behind. The reverse is not true; Faith seems comfortable staying behind.
So far, at least, I also see no sign of anything like fear or uncertainty in Faith. Since she can't hear, she is naturally a little watchful about her surroundings. For example she is constantly looking to confirm her distance from me when walking to make sure she isn't drifting in to me and underfoot. But no more than one might expect. That's really the extent of the caution I observe. For the most part she's just a happy dog.
She is, however, unusually tactile. She just spent 60 minutes lying on my shoulder before shifting position, and when she did move, she shifted in a way that maintained some body contact. The previous record holder for shoulder pillow use was Pooh Bear at 12 minutes, after which she would shift to a remote corner of the bed and face the opposite direction. This seems to be a common pattern. Two dogs, or a dog and human, will almost always sleep facing opposite ways. Faith compromises between this and maintaining some physical contact.
I would describe her as the most cuddle-oriented dog I know, but it isn't quite true. In that she's tied with Katie, a BC I minded one summer for a friend who was traveling. If Faith has her head on your leg or is otherwise in contact, she's content. More so, of course, if she can get you to pet her, and gently persistent if you stop prematurely (which is to say: if you stop at all), but content.
Need to find her a job for sure, but so far supervising the cat seems to be doing the trick.
Now if only I could get that shot of Faith and Trevor driving my car, I'd be content too...
I found with Wynn that the physical contact while relaxed was a way to turn off the vigilance of using eyesight to keep tabs on me, which hearing dogs can do with their eyes closed but deaf dogs can't. That said, my current dog is even more tactile, and she hears just fine. :)
ReplyDeleteMy bcs and aussie have the same 'contact' thing, especially if they are nervous about a storm, stranger, noise etc. Your dogs are so lucky to have such a thoughtful owner!
ReplyDeleteIt seems natural that a deaf dog would favor other senses. What seems unusual is that Katy (my summer guest, who had no hearing issues) did this as well. Lacking real data, my sense is that BCs are highly attuned to their handlers, that there is a wide range of attentiveness that can arise from this, and that deaf dogs are (perhaps) marginally more attuned to physical contact.
ReplyDeleteHow's that for a wishy-washy-statement? :-)
Each of my dogs has been special, but the sad truth is that we forget with the passing of years, and it is the truly unusual stories that stick in our memories. And at that, it is the ones we can describe. I have strong memories of teaching Pooh Bear to wrestle that escape my capacity for words...
ReplyDeleteOne of my private goals in this blog is to try to record things before they can fade from my memory. Each of my dogs has given me worlds to explore. It seems such a small thing to give back, and so shamefully long delayed...