I have an almost 16-year-old deaf English setter, Chase. Joining him is the 12-year-old dachshund, Charlie, with arthritis in all four legs who cannot run, but he can hear perfectly fine. Completing my dog pack is the 9-year-old itchy English Shepherd, Abby, with a t-shirt who must be on a leash because she can still run...and hear.
We have a routine. In the afternoon when I return home, we all end up in the front yard for the dogs to do their business and stretch their legs. They might acknowledge other neighbors who walk by with their dogs. They might bark. Charlie might hobble in their direction for a few inches. But the one day when I lose my voice: Charlie charges up the driveway after a neighbor walking her black lab puppy. I can't yell. I can't catch up because I wasn't prepared for this miracle. I can whistle. Yes ,I can still whistle! I whistle. The lab turns and looks at me. Charlie continues his charge. He refuses to make eye contact. I whistle again. He runs into the street. I drag Abby who has just perfected "the squat" and she leaves deep ruts in the front lawn as she protests her unfinished business. The neighbor praises her well-behaved puppy and tries to have a conversation with me. Apparently there is no universal sign for "I've lost my voice" as I clutch at my throat before realizing that this is the sign for choking. I give a feeble wave and attempt to pick up Charlie but he scampers away and heads for the back door. I push Charlie and Abby through the gate and realize that Chase has ended up at the front door. I need an out of order sign for me and hope that I find my voice very soon.
