A few nights ago, I heard a loud crash downstairs. It was the middle of the night, and my husband was out of town. My dog was startled awake by the noise too. She jumped up from her bed and looked to me for assurance.
“What was that, Paris?” I encouraged. “Go check it out!”
She picked up her teddy bear in her mouth. As I went to investigate, she cowered behind me. She stood at the top of the stairs, holding onto her stuffed animal, while I went downstairs by myself to search for the cause of the noise.
It turned out to be nothing, probably just an icicle falling off the house. I am now well aware, however, that my sweet doodle offers less protection than my house alarm. She’s lovable, but she’s no guard dog.