Dogs hear four times as well as people do.
That probably depends on what they’re listening to.
It’s uncanny, the way Sam and Pippin can hear from the downstairs snug when I’m taking a block of cheese from the refrigerator shelf in the kitchen upstairs. There’s no way I can even hear the fridge door opening from that distance, let alone tell whether someone is reaching for the Havarti or a stick of celery.
Lift the lid of the fish treats jar, and they’ll be there in a trice, from wherever they may be in or out of the house, no summons or spoken word of any kind necessary.
And yet, somehow, their ears fail them when I’m warning them away from something they’re not supposed to be doing… even when I’m shouting from just a hop, skip, and jump away.
Sometimes Pippin will glance up from digging another hole under a rhododendron, with a look into some abstract distance in some random direction that says, “Did I hear something? Was there a sound of some sort?” before sticking his head back into the hole.
Sam won’t even offer that much acknowledgement. What’s to acknowledge, after all? He didn’t hear anything, did he?
Could it be that the battery of muscles that control their directional hearing just had their ears turned in the wrong direction? The kid in elementary school who wiggled his ears for his classmates’ amusement had nothing on our canine friends’ aural gymnastic abilities. And is it your fault if your ears happen to be pointed in the wrong direction? Every time dad gets upset?
Or is it all about the different acoustics inside and outside… although it is remarkable how quickly their hearing improves when I take just one step closer.
That step snaps Pip’s head back up with a sudden nonchalance, and as he “happens” to catch my eye, he shifts into his “Me? Are you talking to me?” look. It’s his unmistakable impression of a mime reenacting Robert De Niro’s famous Taxi Driver scene.
When my step is directed towards Sam, he breaks into a puppy-like happiness and a bounding, tail-wagging approach for pats. It’s so endearing that any transgression is practically forgotten by the time he gets to me… and it’s time for fish treats for both of them.
We see better than dogs do, but I think they hear me coming.
