(Video Photo of Cooper by Mom’s vase)
My dog is psychic. Call it crazy, but I swear he knows things.
Sadly, after my mom passed away, many of her valuables were transferred from one storage facility to another without me being allowed an opportunity to get a proper accounting before the boxes were relocated.
As I began to open the boxes that I was certain were properly marked with a Black Sharpie, I realized much of her stuff was missing and was someone else’s junk (like ancient red enema bags—gross—but yeah), cookie tins with leftover crumbs, ceramic floor tiles that were never Mom’s, and carpet liner. What in the world would Mom do with rolls of carpet liner?
Only one platter from her China pattern was found. Her flatware…gone but swapped with one of lesser value. The wedding rings my biological father gave to her that were supposed to be handed down to me…still unaccounted. The last piece of jewelry—a necklace—my father gave Mom the Christmas before he died…nowhere to be found. Mom was a pink, peach, and purple lover. The red plates and coffee mugs I found in the box marked “China” would not have been stocked in her kitchen. Where were Mom’s belongings that held so much sentimental value?
Fast forward to the pitcher I pulled from one of the boxes that I knew wasn’t Mom’s. I didn’t want it, but I needed one to water the bird bath with so I took it home, set it on the floor of my sunroom and went to pick my dog, Cooper, up from Doggie Daycare.
When we returned, I opened the door to the sunroom to let him outside. His eyes were immediately drawn to the pitcher. He stopped and started barking at it ferociously, as if it wreaked bad vibes and evil and he wanted to attack it.
Why, out of all the picture frames, gadgets, vases and other odds and ends that I had hanging on the walls, situated on coffee tables and sitting on the floor in my home, did Cooper stop and attempt to attack this one pitcher? His excessive barking and hatred toward it caused me to have to pick it up and put it back in my car.
The next day I returned it to storage and placed it in the Salvation Army stash. And, ironically, that same day I found Mom’s water pitcher/vase. I not only knew it was Mom’s because I had seen it in her home and watched her watering the plants with it, I knew it was Mom’s because it had bunny rabbits imprinted on it. Anything with bunny rabbits and butterflies, she loved!
I took it home, set it in the sunroom in the same spot I set the one that wasn’t Mom’s. And when I got Cooper and opened the door to the sunroom, he went straight to the pitcher, sniffed it and wagged his tail and then headed toward the door to be let outside. Amazing what my little canine knew!
There is a reason why dogs are trained to sniff out thugs and drugs. Cooper is self-trained by instinct. Do you have a similar dog story? If so, feel free to share.
Written by Kathryn Kaufmann © June 13th, 2018