This used to be bliss – total peace and quiet. This no longer means that. It now means that I start looking to see what the not so little monkeys are up to.
One of the things that you find on the internet in the rabbit hole (not intentional!) of googling greyhounds is that they are quiet. One site I was reading had a description that made me laugh “They’re tall, skeletal and eerily silent” – the perfect addition to a gothic house or novel. However, like with everything you read on the web, take it with a pinch of salt. It varies wildly from dog to dog and I can tell you empathically that silent is not a word I would use to describe either of these!
There are some noises associated with them that in fairness they are not making intentionally. The jangle of the tags on their collars and the click clacking of nails on the tile and wooden floors of my house gives you a pretty good idea of who is on the move and whether you should start paying attention – these things being done at speed are normally are reason for me to go and have a look what they have gotten into. It’s normally quite clear if another toy is about to meet its fate if the sound of squeaking increases, normally with excess jangling of collar tags as the hounds shake their toy to death.
There is also the lurch thump of paws on stairs that may require investigation. Bea still doesn’t like stairs so we know that will be Sam, the question there is where is he heading. Nine times out of ten he is heading for the single bed in my home office he has claimed as a Sam bed for a snooze. There is the odd occasion though, happily becoming more frequent, that he is hunting down something that has the potential to be a toy. Socks pulled off a radiator are a favourite for this, as are pillows on my bed.
Bea may not like the stairs but she certainly makes her presence known. She is a chatty little conversationalist – I’ve never had a dog try so hard to verbally communicate with me before. There can be a series of whines that vary in pitch and length depending on what she is after, extended groans when you are tickling her in just the right spot, abrupt humphs if you have dared to stop and if you aren’t paying enough attention – a loud sharp bark.
Bea is a total rabble rousing barker. If the doorbell goes, if she wants to play with Sam, if she doesn’t want to play with Sam, if she sees a cat, if she sees a squirrel, if it’s 5.15am and time to play – Bea will bark. This is loud, sharp and totally unexpected. It succeeds in its purpose though – we normally focus our attention on finding her (follow the noise) and seeing whether it’s play or we need to rescue a hedgehog in the garden. We are very fortunate that our terraced house is old with very thick walls or I have no doubt that we would be hearing from the neighbours!
Despite being ear shattering, it has its moments where it’s one of the things I love about them. When they are barking at each other, tails wagging as they play chase in the garden, I am hoping it’s that they are feeling happy and safe and it’s an expression of joy and excitement.
It has its moments where I love it less – mostly between 0430 – 0530! This is a work in progress – we know they are fed, warm and have comfortable beds, blankets, access to water and each other. Sometimes this is not enough for little girl dog and she will bark until we appear. I’m not sure if it’s that she has woken up and decided she is missing us (if she could just practice the stairs this wouldn’t be a thing as we would be accessible at all times) – although some mornings she basically ignores us and goes back to bed 15mins later, that this is the time she is used to waking up and that’s her routine – if only they could talk (we also could have negotiated an extra hour with daylight savings)! It’s something that we will continue to work on with her to find a situation that makes everyone happy. It’s still very early days for everyone and these things take time. Four fast months may seem like a reasonable adjustment period but it’s really not when you consider that Bea spent nearly 7 years living in a totally different, incomparable world.
There are noises that I like to think mean they are happy in this new strange world. A groan or moan as they snuggle into the sofa or their bed, or as they are tickled in just the right spot. It sounds like a long deep sigh of contentment – and it’s a new noise for Sam over the last couple of weeks. Perhaps a sign that he is starting to feel more comfortable and relaxed.
There is the noise I never knew existed until I had a greyhound – the GSOD or greyhound scream of death. The best way I can describe this is the sound of a woman or small child being murdered – a high pitched screech which made me jump out of my skin. This is reserved for minor catastrophic events such as “you stepped on my paw” or “I slipped on a step and scared myself”. The times that we have ended up having to mop blood from a greyhound (they are clumsy with skin like paper!) this was done in total silence as they are incredibly stoic.
So between the click clack, jingle jangle, groans, whines and barks, I can safely say I’ve never been happier without the sound of silence.