Crazy Is as Crazy Does

"Animal lovers know that troubled creatures are sometimes the ones we love most."

Jon Katz*

We don’t call Maizey crazy for nothing. On her first visit to our vet, Dr. Barbara Kempf, took one look at Maizey twirling in circles and diagnosed her with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.  She’s afraid of loud noises (thunder, fireworks). She doesn’t like change of any kind, being left behind, green beans, or knocks on the front door. Squirrels are her biggest nemesis. For obvious reasons, Maizey dislikes humping boy dogs that get a little too close to her behind. She’s kind of picky about her canine companions, immediately assuming the role of Alpha dog in any situation.

Maizey's list of likes would include treats, rawhide bones, orange balls and stuffed animals. She likes chewing on baseball caps, leather work gloves, and swim fins. The more expensive they are, the better they taste. Since she's been sick, Maizey likes her filet mignon cooked medium rare over a charcoal fire. She is partial to a freshly made bed with lots of blankets to burrow into. She has an affinity for pretty women and children. 

John might be Maizey’s truest friend but once she gives her approval you are forever in her heart. I have no doubt that even 5 years later if the Stevensons walked in the door, Maizey would jump into their arms and slather them with dog kisses.  Maizey prefers all the neighborhood dog walkers to their canine companions. When she sees someone heading in her direction she gets all excited, pulls on her leash like a Greyhound chasing a rabbit, and lets out some ferocious sounding barks. What sounds like, "I'm going to eat you," to a passerby is simply Maizey's way of saying hello. It didn't John long to figure out walking after dark would be best for everyone concerned. He knows she won’t hurt anybody, but others aren't so sure.

On her first night here Maizey saw a ghost. This may explain why she jumped out of the second story window. Over the years, many of us have sensed an other-worldly presence in this house. A shadow moving down the hall. Sometimes an eerie, unexplainable sensation. As a kid I was afraid to stay upstairs by myself. I still hate to go up there after dark so I am sure Maizey is not imagining things. On the other hand, the floating heads (all she can see inside the tinted windows) Maizey sees in passing SUVs is an indication of just how bonkers she is. 

 Maizey is ever on the lookout for squirrels that skitter along the back of the fence, “snakies” otherwise known as lizards that hide in the base of the bird feeder  the swimming pool net and most anything with wings. Besides ghosts, and floating heads, Maizey has been known to go berserk over Spanish moss hanging from the electric wires. On a moonless night the shadowy moss looks similar in size and shape to the owls that are scoping out the area for dinner. At dinner time owls are all business. They don’t like their hunt disturbed by a horse of dog barking loud enough to scare away yummy looking rodents. The taloned predators, who could easily scratch out Maizey's eyes with one swoop,  show no fear. They sit like statues on the wire or tree branches and do that owl thing with their heads, changing their focus from front to back. Spanish moss or the real thing, it makes no difference to Maizey. 

I don't think for one minute Maizey thinks she can catch an owl, or a squirrel. Sometimes she just likes to hear herself bark. 

Going Home, Finding Peace When Pets Die, Jon Katz. Random House, NY, pg xi

Random House, NY