|Mischa at Christmas, the moment she realized she was staying at my Aunt and Uncle's house while we went on vacation.|
It was years ago. I was home from college for the summer. I put a piece of pizza in the toaster oven without a timer and forgot about it. After too long, Mischa began barking to alert me that it was finished. I ran back into the kitchen to find the toaster oven unplugged and the pizza perfectly cooked, not burned to a crisp as I was expecting. I was home alone and the dog couldn't reach that counter in her wildest dreams. Directly following that incident I couldn't find my allergy medicine. It wasn't in the cabinet and the kitchen counters were bare so I went upstairs to check in my bedroom. When I came back downstairs the little white bottle was sitting on the counter, alone in the center.
Why I am on this topic?
With the pup out on an adventure of her own I can really enjoy how much noise my home makes by itself. A few years back it had been a very windy winter and the innermost corner of my bedroom would make an awful squeaking sound only in the middle of the night. That was fun. Then there was the time a squirrel broke into the attic and would run back and forth at all hours. Little tapping feet scrambling across my ceiling. But those noises are different. I have gotten so accustomed to hearing certain things, the footsteps on the stairs and tapping in the hall, sighs, and rustling. Though she is a very vocal thing, I'm beginning to think that the dog doesn't make half as much noise as I thought.