There’s something about the sound of a banana being separated from the bunch. That little snapping sound. For dogs who love bananas, like Cali and my first dog, Timo, that sound is magic.
Timo could be outside, busy with doggy things, but if I touched the bananas, he’d be there in a flash. Cali currently can’t get too far from me; we live in an apartment with no yard. And her sensitive ears never miss that sound. Or the sound of a knife cutting into a cucumber. She does love cucumbers …
Her hearing excels in other ways too. If I rustle a treat bag or the bag her food comes in … touch my keys … move a tennis ball while looking through the closet. Certain key sounds carry extremely well. Jana could hear a whispered, “Cooookieeee” from a mile away.
On the other hand, other sounds never seem to penetrate the fog of a Cali daydream. Her name, for example. Or a “let’s go,” when she’s perfectly happy where she is.
Dog enthusiasts make much of dogs’ keen sense of smell. Rightfully so; it is amazing. But their hearing is no less fascinating.
The Thinking Dog 
If I am chopping vegetables, I know how it’s going to go. Right after the first chop, there’s always the pitter patter of Brèagha trotting to the kitchen in the hopes of obtaining a broccoli stem, carrot top, piece of lettuce core, or some other such crunchy vegetable. Who can say no when their dog asks for a healthy snack?
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