Maddie May

In March, on one of our last nights in Florida, I woke up at 3 a.m. to get a glass of water (not), and while sitting on the commode, a dog walked out of the shower.

Bad dream? No. Startling? Yes.

Thankfully, it was our dog.

“I know, I know. It’s OK. She chose it,” Rebecca said after hearing me gasp at the sight of a ghostly white creature ogling me from the stall.

“Chose it? What the heck are you talking about?” I asked, stumbling back into bed.

We had been having another typical southwest Florida storm, complete with heavy rains, loud booms of thunder and frightening flashes of lightning.

Nothing ever bothered Madison in her youth. She was fearless, except for the vacuum. But somewhere along the way, she became afraid of storms, especially thunder.

It likely had to do with that fateful Fourth of July when the family fireworks show blew up more gunpowder than a Copper City mine shaft. The poor thing was so upset, she shat herself! And then there was Maddie.

We even got her a “ThunderShirt” to soothe the anxiety and calm her fears. It swaddles her like a baby. The shirt helps, but she still gets squirrelly and sometimes takes cover. Which explains why she was sleeping in the shower that night.

Smartest. Dog. Ever.

Today, Maddie turns 13. That’s supposedly 91 in dog years, according to the well-known “rule of law” that one dog year equals seven human years. Turns out that’s a myth.

Maddie weighs just under 12 pounds. The first year of life for a small dog like her is equal to approximately 15 years of a human’s life. Year two equals about nine years for a human. After that, every human year equals four to five years for a dog.

So, with 13 years on this planet, this little beast is more like 68 in human years, give or take. 

Now I can understand why she’s been slowing down, sleeping more, still up for short walks and playing ball, but eating less. Kind of like her mothers, except for that last part.

Maddie’s day usually begins and ends the same. Wake up, “go potty, go potty, go potty,” have a drink and then go back to sleep in her comfy kitchen bed. You’d think she’d just zonk out there at night, so then she’d always get … wait for it … breakfast in bed. (Bada-bing. Here all week. Thanks.)

It’s often somewhere later in the day when she actually eats (canned, dry or both), fetches the gross fuzzy pink tennis ball or grabs her stuffed bear for another round of “No, you get the baby!”

And, of course, there’s always time for her to sit on her makeshift perch guarding our patio to bark at trespassing squirrels or shoo away unwanted sparrows nesting in an old birdhouse.

Maddie’s definitely a creature of habit, even though dogs have no sense of time. Every night around 7, she sits at the top of the stairs glaring at us if we’re still sitting at the kitchen table doing nothing.

“Time to go watch TV. Downstairs. Now,” she conveys with searing telepathic canine speak. Like two well-trained humans, we don’t sit or stay. We obey. Maybe we’ll even get a treat.

Lucky for us, throughout this pandemic, Maddie has been a comforting presence and constant sense of normalcy. She’s here to serve and doesn’t care if you wear a mask or wash your hands. But, honestly, she’d rather you remain socially distant, preferably 6-feet away. Just sayin’.

All that said, I’ve been wondering about some things lately, including:

• Do dogs know what time it is? Not exactly. They don’t understand clock time or calendar time in the same way humans do, but they do have some sense of time that is unique to them. And they miss us when we’re gone.

• Do dogs dream? Yes, they do, and it’s often very similar to us in that they replay moments of their day while they’re fast asleep. That explains why she makes “yipping” noises sometimes when she’s fast asleep. And moves all four legs as if she’s chasing squirrels.

• Do dogs know how much we love them? Yes, your dog knows how much you love her. When you stare at your dog, both of your oxytocin levels increase, the same as when you pet and play with them. Oxytocin is a fancy word for a peptide hormone that makes you both feel good and reinforces social bonding.

All of this dog talk leaves me with one more question: If dogs have no sense of time, how do they know when it’s their birthday?

Because their silly humans bake them a cake that says, “Let’s Pawty!”

Happy birthday, Maddie-Loo. We love you more.