Was Captain smart, or what?

Talking with my daughter Jenny last night she asked I add to our family remembrances some story about Captain, our first family dog.

Captain was a handsome male Golden Retriever. A smart dog, a loving dog, a wonderful family member and great companion. There are many stories about Captain, but his ability to open doors was legend.

Somewhere along the line Captain became extremely fearful of thunder storms. We first noticed it in Sheboygan Falls. It may have existed earlier, but we did not pick up on it until Sheboygan Falls. I think what may have contributed to it was the requirement that he spend his nights in the garage. He was not an indoor dog, my wife wouldn't allow it. The kennels he lived in at our other homes were open so he could see outside, yet go into a sheltered dog house for protection from the elements. In Sheboygan Falls he simply slept on a concrete floor in the basement. He did come into the house at times, but usually for short periods.

When a thunderstorm would come up, Captain wanted to stay close to someone. He would put his head under your hand to be reassured that everything was OK.

One time in Sheboygan Falls my wife and I were hosting a company manager's reception. We had a large home. During the gathering a thunderstorm blew up. In fact it took one of our dining room windows almost off. Captain had been confined to the garage which was located down a short run of steps below the family room where the reception was being held.

During the height of the storm the president of our company noticed the doorknob slowly rotating on the door that opened up to the basement or garage. We all watched, astounded by what we saw. Slowly the knob turned some more, all of a sudden the latched opened, the door swung open to reveal Captain. Captain strode into the room, tail up and wagging and greeting our guests as though he had just come in from a little outing and was delighted to see them.

Later after the party had broken up I got to examining the door knob. The door knob was one of those small, compact but solid brass knobs. It was crushed. The crushing had come from teeth. Captain had apparently crushed the knob so he could get a grip on it and then turned his head thereby opening the door. Now how he figured that out is beyond me.

The story doesn't end there. My wife and I divorced, I got fired, and moved to Arkansas to a new job. Captain came with me. Apparently I forget to tell him to leave his fear of thunderstorms in Wisconsin.

Living on 5 acres of land in Arkansas I left Captain outside much of the time I was gone. On hot days I would leave him in the house, but cooler weather he could stay outside and explore the acreage. I noticed as time passed that the door frame on my front door was being gnawed by Captain and so was the wooden screen door. There we times I would go to work in the morning and come home in the evening to find my front door standing wide open and Captain inside, when he had been outside at the beginning of the day. For the life of me I could not figure out how he opened the door. The screen door was held by a latch held in place by gravity, and old fashioned type of latch. The main door was a solid wood door with a thumb operated latch that you had to press down on to open the latch. When I was home, Captain simply stayed with me and as a result he never revealed the secret to me of his skill in opening doors.

One day I was out some distance from the house raking some debris. I heard a thumping and turned to see Captain standing at the front door with his right leg extended into the hole he had gnawed in the frame and screen door. He hooked his paw around so he could shake the screen door violently. He did this a number of times until the latch worked its way out of its keep and the door swung open. Then he jumped up, crossing both paws and put downward pressure on the thumb latch until his weight opened the door. With both doors wide open he strolled into the house and sat down to await my arrival. That was the only time I ever witnessed him opening the doors. But there were numerous times while at work a thunderstorm would blow up and I would come home later in the day to find Captain inside with my doors standing wide open.

My next door neighbor told me that frequently when a storm would blow up during the day that she would walk into their garage to watch the down pour and there would be Captain. He would stand by her until the storm was over and then come back home.

One day the neighbors were not home and their garage door was down. A particularly fierce thunderstorm blew up and I usually wondered about Captain and hoped he didn't eat the log cabin while confined. I got home that evening after the storm had moved on and nothing was amiss. All of a sudden the phone rang. It was a neighbor who I did not know, who lived in a home along our private drive, but was some distance from the house. He asked if I had a large Golden Retriever. Yes, I said. He said, "your dog scared the hell out of my wife and child. They were standing in the kitchen watching the storm when all of a sudden their back door opened and in came your dog." I apologized and said I would pay for any damages, which calmed the man down. I went to the house to see what had happened and sure enough I found their back door knob crushed bearing tooth marks. Captain had become so afraid that he went to their home and opened the back door. You could imagine the fear when all of a sudden a 100 pound Golden opens the door and walked in.

The man never replaced the door knob and some years later that family moved. The next family told me about the door knob and it was still there. A few years later another couple moved into that home. I knew this couple. They also wondered about what had crushed the door knob.

Captain has been gone some 19 years now. I think that within the last five years that door knob on that home was replaced. The door of our home still bears the chewed hole in the door frame and door body that Captain put their to open the door when he wanted. I don't think I'll every replace it. It is pretty personal now.

And dog's arent' smart. Hah!!!

Cilla

Cilla passed away December 12, 2008 at approximately 7:00 PM. Cilla came to live with us around 2002. She had lived with our daughter Tracy and her husband and children. However, their home burned and they decided they did not want to take Cilla to the new home. Both adults worked and were gone a lot leaving Cilla alone. Cilla began to chew shoes and was quite destructive. After the fire we kept Cilla and when they decided they did not want her back we invited her to live with us. Cilla had a problem with heart worm which was successfully treated however Cilla had a cough, and she often coughed up some phlegm.

If Cilla ran or got real excited she would cough. I often wondered how long her heart would stand the strain of coughing and shortness of breath. When we got Cilla in 2002 she was 6 years old, when she passed yesterday we estimate her to be 12.

She was a good dog. We never had any trouble with her chewing anything. Sometimes we underestimated her bladder capacity and she had an accident in the bathroom on a rug. Sometimes she seemed to have a digestive tract problem and would have a BM in the house, same place. In the last few years there were days when she just did not seem to feel well. She would get lethargic, listless and slept a lot. However, we also discovered that she suffered seizures which seemed to really take the starch out of her. Perhaps the days she didn't feel well were the aftermath of a seizure.

Regardless Cilla was a courageous little dog. She enjoyed life. Some of the favorite things were to sit in the recliner with Terry while we watched TV. If Terry were not here and I was in my recliner then she would come and want to sit next to me. However, if Terry were in her chair, that is where she wanted to be, even to the extent that she would get up off my lap and want to be put down so she could go sit with Terry. I didn't mind, I took up more room in the chair and she could snuggle down between the chair my leg. With Terry she could. It got funny because she always sat on Terry's left side. However if Terry got up she would shift to the right side or lay cross ways in the chair. When Terry returned she would tell Cilla to move over and she would.

Another favorite position was if I were working on the computer she would come and stand in front of me. She didn't beg, she just looked at you. I would pick her up and hold her in the crook of my left arm while I read news, sports or read emails. She would lay astraddle of my arm with her head resting on my forearm. She was comfortable, but sometimes in the summer it would get too hot.

Cilla was a bit of a persnickety eater. She ate mostly table scraps. If I had bacon and eggs she would enjoy a bit of my bacon which I tore up and distributed around the plate. I would tell her she had a plate full of bacon, but I think she tolerated my lame joke. If we had breakfast sausage Terry would give her some of hers. We tried dog food in pouches, cans, and dry. If we waited long enough she would eat it, but I always had the impression that she wanted table food. She liked spaghetti and goulash. She did not like fish. Cheese, oh boy, she loved swiss, cheddar and colby. I did not give her a lot, but if I opened a package of cheese she would come down off the couch, chair or wherever to share in her treat. If I opened a package of lunch meat, particularly ham she would drift in from wherever she was with her little nose twitching in anticipation of getting a morsel, which she often did.

Cilla was not a real active dog. However she really enjoyed our walks around the property. She would sniff and poke and explore taking in all the smells. I often wished she could tell me what story she was learning. Cilla was an exuberant little dog, often stamping her feet, lurching in enticement as she searched and teased. She never got very far away and if we got into deep grass tried to stay close.

Cilla loved to go for rides in the car. If you said do you want to go for a ride she would come and stand in front of me stamping her front feet in anticipation. If you walked out the door she would be right at your feet not wanting to miss a moment.
When Terry and I went grocery shopping she sat on Terry's lap looking out the window as we drove to the store. Then she sat in Terry's chair and would wait patiently for our return. Sometimes I would take her in the truck out to the feed store to get bird feed. She would come over and sit half on my lap and snuggle while we rode to do our errand.

In some ways she was a demanding dog. But what she demanded was affection, nothing else. She loved to have her ears scratched and her tummy rubbed. She was a loving little dog with a heart as big as her tiny little body. We will miss her. She will be fondly remembered for as long as Terry and I live. Thank you Cilla for being a part of our life.