Dogs Know

I took her leash and started to lead her away. Kylie sat down. “Come on, girl,” I said, surprised. This was not normal for Kylie.

Dogs know more than we think.

Kylie was a good dog. A tri-colored Australian Shepherd owned by my friend Kathy. She was an obedience and breed champion with a room full of ribbons and trophies to show for it. This was a dog who knew her job.

I had the honor of hiring Kylie many times for print ads and commercials. She loved to work and made my job easy. On set, Kylie was a star.

Then Kathy was diagnosed with breast cancer. I knew she had been going through treatment. It had been a long stretch, and like everyone who knew her, I was hoping she was doing well. After some time, Kathy told me she felt ready to come back to work, so I booked Kylie for a shoot. Kylie was to pose with a human model who would brush her with a grooming tool.

When Kathy came in with Kylie, I greeted them. Kylie had always pulled on her leash when she saw me, wriggling her whole body in anticipation. This time, she was quiet. She stayed close to Kathy. It is my usual practice to leave the owner in the waiting room and take the dog to the set myself. Most dogs work better without that distraction. Kylie had always been one of those dogs.

I took her leash and started to lead her away. Kylie sat down.

“Come on, girl,” I said, surprised. This was not normal for her.

“Go on,” Kathy said. “Go with Barbara. You’ll be fine.”

Kylie stood up, but slowly. She followed me, but kept looking back over her shoulder toward Kathy.

“Come on, girl,” I said in my happiest voice. “I’ve got cheese.”

Usually that word would bring her full attention. This time she glanced at me, then looked back toward the door where Kathy was waiting.

Something was off.

The model came in and I put Kylie in position. I stepped back and cued her, looking for the soft expression she always gave me. She did the commands. Sit. Stay. But only for a moment. Then Kylie broke her stay and looked toward the door.

I tried again. “Kylie, stay.”

She paused, then broke again. This was a dog who knew her job. But she kept looking past me. Her attention kept going back to Kathy. I watched her for a moment. And then I understood. She wasn’t refusing to work. She just thought she had a more important job.

I apologized to the photographer and took Kylie off the set.

“Okay,” I said as I let go of her collar. Kylie bolted out the door and down the hall to Kathy. I could hear Kathy laughing as I followed.

“What is it, girl?” Kathy said as Kylie jumpe

d up and covered her face with kisses.

“She can’t leave your side right now,” I said.

Kathy took Kylie’s head in her hands. “Is that true?” she asked, softly stroking her behind the ears. We went back to the set together.

“Why don’t you work her,” I said. “She needs you this time.”

Kathy put Kylie in position. The model got ready. The photographer began to shoot. It was like a different dog. Kylie perked up. She held her stay. She lifted her paw on cue. She spun when asked. She even kissed the model’s face. The rest of the shoot went perfectly.

We lost Kathy to cancer not long after that.

I still think about that day.

How she just wouldn’t leave her.

It’s amazing to me how dogs sometimes just...know.