You've No Messages

We were visiting our daughter when we adopted our Boston terrier, Tad. An adorable puppy, just three months old, he became the family's center of attention. Each morning, as soon as he heard my daughter Kayla moving around downstairs, he had to be taken down for play time before she left for work. When she came home from work, we had him waiting for her at the door.

After three weeks we left for home. On the drive, we let Tad talk to Kayla on the phone each night. Once home, every time we called Kayla or she called us, we always put Tad on. He scratched the phone and listened intently and tried to look into the phone to see her. One Saturday, Kayla called when we were out. She left a message. Tad was standing beside me when I pressed the button to listen to the message. He listened to her talking and cocked his head, grinning at me. I played it again for him.

A few days later, I was taking my shower when I heard the answering machine come on and Kayla leave a message. I thought it was strange when I heard her message repeat and the machine announce, "End of messages." A few seconds later, Kayla's message began yet again.

Wondering what was going on, I climbed out of the shower, wrapped a towel around myself and headed into the living room. There stood Tad, listening to the answering machine. I stopped and watched. When the message finished, he stood up with his feet again the edge of the low table, reached over with one paw and slapped the answering machine. The message came on again. He dropped back on the floor and listened happily.

I told him "no" and distracted him from the answering machine while I erased the message. In the few days later I was in the kitchen when I heard " You have no messages." I headed for the living room. Tad had started the machine again. I watched as he cocked his head and looked at the answering machine. Then he stood with his feet on the edge of the low table and tapped the button again: " You have no messages." He walked around to the other side of the table and repeated the same process with the same results. This really irritated him. He returned to his first position, took both paws and began slapping and clawing the answering machine. It repeated: "You have no messages."

I said, "Tad, leave the answering machine alone. " He looked backed at me and then turned back to the answering machine, digging at it furiously. When it repeated the same message, he ran to me and tehn ran back to the answering machine, waiting for me to do something. I realized he wanted to hear Kayla talking, but I had erased the message.

I called Kayla that night and asked her to call Tad and leave him a message. I explained that Tad had listened to her message, but I had erased it. When he tried to listen to it again and didn't hear her message, he had been unhappy.

Kayla called Tad and left a special message for him that he can play and listen to whenever he wanted to hear Kayla's voice. We call it puppy love, twenty-first-century style!

Transfered from Chicken Soup for the Dog Lovers' Soul