#protective doggo

Extra kisses and treats for this smart boy tonight!

Brutus is a creature of habit. He needs routine. All dogs do, but blind dogs especially so. So imagine my surprise when we enter our normal, at-least-three-times-a-day stairwell and he WILL NOT go past putting his front paws on the first step down. Nope, no way, nuh-uh, not happening, Momma. In fact, he got just past the first step with gentle urging and immediately skittered back up.

So I talk to him. I ask him what he smells, what he hears. I stay quiet and I listen for clues. Nothing. I hear absolutely nothing. I look down the center but of course can only see to the ground floor, nothing of each individual flight of stairs.

I try again. He won’t go. I talk some more. Eventually I say into the limnal space the stairwell has become, “Hello?”

And I get an answer. “Yeah.”

Wtf. Dude apparently heard me talking to Brute the whole time and decided to just stay quiet. So I say to Brutus, “So there’s someone down there, it’s okay.”

And I get, “Upstairs, actually.” Which, fine, whatever, at least you weren’t going to murder me on my way down, kudos to you, you’re still creeping me out.

Brutus is Not Having It and is headed back to the door inside. Fine by me. I tell my brave boy that means the elevator, which he is terrified of, and I dread having to shove him in there when he’s already freaked out.

But my smart bubs has a better idea, and he turns immediately towards the hallway that leads to another stairwell, one we used months ago for a few weeks while ours was closed off for repairs. A hallway he’s never liked going down and a stairwell that’s backwards from the other, forcing him to veer right to get to the first flight and turn left at each landing, the exact opposite of what he’s used to.

He nailed it. No hesitation, no accidental right turns. All excitement and haste.

Brutus loves everybody. EVERYBODY. I believe animals can tell the Inherently Good from the Inherently Bad. I don’t necessarily think that guy was up to anything tonight, but I do believe he was of the Not Good variety.

If nothing else, this is a perfect example of men needing to realize just how fucking creepy they can be, and why we are always cautious. And you can bet I triple checked my deadbolt before climbing into bed tonight.