I should have known.  After a lifetime of adopting pets from shelters, you’d think I’d know better.  Have I ever adopted an animal that wasn’t in some ways a “special needs” critter?  The short answer to that question is NO!  Sometimes their needs are not obvious.  Take Barney, for instance.  Who would ever have guessed the medical disaster he would turn into and that I haven’t even begun to tell you about?  Take Celony, who rarely misses a month without visiting her favorite veterinarian for her mysterious ailments that we have yet to diagnose.

And then there’s Linus.  Surely you remember Linus, the dog we adopted for my mom over a year ago.

....zzzzz...

When I go back and read those original stories I wrote about him, I see the clues to what’s wrong with Linus.  Well, it’s not really that there is anything “wrong” with Linus; it’s just that he’s not quite “right”.

Right away we noticed that Linus never barked.  He didn’t bark when cars arrived.  He didn’t bark when there was a knock at the door, or when the doorbell rang.   He would run with the other dogs to greet strangers arriving, but he would never bark.

He does “talk” when he wants something.  He yips when he is outside and wants in.  He will, in fact, yip incessantly when he wants in.  He whines/yodels when he wants out, or when he wants to sit on the couch with you, or for reasons we do not understand.  For instance, he can be snuggling on the couch with you and whining quite a tall tale to you.

We also noticed he often does not come when called.  He will just ignore us and keep running the other way.  We considered him aloof, a loner, marching to the sound of a different drummer.  But this really frustrated Butterfly, who had been used to her prior dog, Carly.  Carly was her little shadow, never leaving her side.  Now she had Linus, who often was her shadow, but other times acted like he had no use for her.

I didn’t pay too much attention to this because it wasn’t too big a deal.  Usually he would be with the group of dogs and they would all come and go together.  It was only on occasion that he would wander off by himself and not come when called.

The only time we noticed different behavior is when we left our property – to go on a hike, for instance.  Then Linus was careful to stay close to us.  He would run ahead, but he would always keep Butterfly in his sight.  He would always be looking over his shoulder to see where she was.  If she changed paths, he darted back to go with her.  Often he chose to fall in step behind her.

Then one day I was home alone, gardening.  I was working across the driveway from the barn.  As I toiled away, I caught sight of Linus, trotting up the hill, make a bee-line for the barn.  I knew he was looking for me because he does not like to be away from people.

I called him.  He kept jogging towards the barn.  I called him again.  He continued towards the barn.  I yelled his named louder.  He kept on his heading towards the barn.

And the light bulb above my head went “PING” as it suddenly dawned on me that Linus couldn’t hear me!  He wasn’t aloof!  He wasn’t stubborn!  He wasn’t marching to the beat of a different drummer – he couldn’t even hear ANY drummer!

I whistled.  Linus stopped, turned, saw me and grinned.  He galloped over, wagging his entire body in delight at finding me.

“Oh, Linus!”  I said as I dropped to one knee to hug him.  “I’m so sorry!  I’ve been so stupid for so long!  How did I not understand what was wrong with you?  I am so sorry I called you all those silly names and said all those things about you!  And you can’t hear a word I’m saying, can you?”  I laughed and he didn’t care what I said or didn’t say.

This explains so much about him.  It explains so many of the things about him that drive us crazy.  For instance, on a rainy day he’ll be at one door yipping to come in.  I’ll go to my office door to call him and let him in, but he’ll never come to that door (like the other dogs know to do).  I always have to go out in the rain, find him at the other door and bring him around to the office door.  (The office has a brick floor and I can confine the dogs there until their feet are dry, if need be.)

Upon realizing that Linus was deaf, I immediately sat down and sent an email to the SPCA where we’d adopted him.  I told them that they’d pulled the wool over our eyes, giving us a “defective” animal.  How, I asked, was deaf Linus supposed to protect Butterfly, with the hearing aids, against rattlesnakes?  It’s akin to the blind leading the blind!  I told them I wanted my money back.  They knew it was in jest – mostly because no money had exchanged hands (other than a donation from me) – a senior had adopted a senior dog, which happens for free.  They did say they’d had no idea he was deaf, but that I could purchase a vibrating collar made especially for calling deaf dogs.  I’m still looking into that option.

Since then we had the vet confirm that he is indeed deaf, but to what degree we’ll never really know.  We know he can hear certain whistle tones, which is extremely helpful.  We know he definitely cannot hear normal voice tones and most normal household sounds.  He cannot hear cars, which is a great danger.  This is why I now have this sign, among many others, on our gate:

I hope people take heed.

Do you think they'll pay attention?

The vet told me that the two main things to worry about with deaf dogs are cars and startling them in case they bite.  The cars are definitely an issue for Linus, because he falls asleep on our driveway and you can drive right up to him without him hearing the car.  I’m hoping the UPS and FedEx drivers will heed my sign and take care.  He’s ok if he’s awake.  He seems pretty savvy about getting out of the way of vehicles.

As far as startling him, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.  Before we knew he was deaf, we had observed that he is one of the mellowest dogs we know.  You can throw yourself on him when he is sound asleep and he just groans and rolls over for a belly rub.  That said, however, we will be careful, especially where children are concerned.  So far he has been wonderful with them, but now we will let everyone know of his disability and to respect it.

One of the ways that Linus will get the respect he deserves is by sporting some new garb.

Nice collar cover!

Hopefully this will help drivers and new arrivals in general take notice and give Linus the accommodation he requires.

When we leave the property, he’ll have even more eye-catching apparel.

This should make it obvious!

Linus is unconcerned.

Now that we realize his limitations, we don’t let him off leash when we’re away from home.  I shudder to think about the hikes we’ve taken him on where he’s been off-leash.  What if he’d gotten separated from us and then couldn’t hear us calling him?   I’m still kicking myself for taking so long to figure him out.

We do know that one of his other senses works quite well.

Whenever there is anything going on in the kitchen, Linus is right there to offer clean-up services.  Chelsea was peeling/coring apples for a pie one weekend and Linus was just waiting for a signal that it was ok to go after anything that missed the bowl.

Living with a deaf dog is difficult and requires making adjustments, and then even more adjustments … but they’re worth it.