Today we had workers in the house, so this morning I dropped Kasey off at our local dog-sitting service. We arrived right after it opened up at 7 a.m. and were one of the first drop-offs. A friendly young woman greeted Kasey by name, took her by the leash, and marched her to the back area, and I went off to work.
When I came back tonight to pick Kasey up at the end of the day, it was a different story. I could hear the dogs barking while I was still out on the street. It’s obvious the dogs had been riled up by the sound of the doorbell and buzzer that allowed dog owners to enter the locked facility, and they knew that their owners were going to be stopping by to pick them up. With that knowledge, any rational canine would bark their brains out to make sure that their owners knew they were there are ready to leave, right? Why take a chance that you’d be overlooked?
It was loud. In fact, loud really doesn’t begin to capture the force and volume of the noise level in that closed facility. Next to baby cries and fingernails on a chalkboard, dog barks are probably the sound most calculated to get human beings to sit up, pay attention, and then do whatever they can to stop the damned barking. So think of a dog barking vigorously, and then multiply that by a hundred — or perhaps a thousand — to approximate jet engine levels. And even with that massive wall of sound, I could hear Kasey’s distinctive hoarse bark.
I was grateful to get Kasey and get the heck out of there to let my eardrums recover. I commend the nice young women who work there. They must be true dog lovers.