Dumb Dogs > Smart Dogs

I've had dogs my entire life, and until recently, they were all brilliant. I had dogs that could unlock gates, open doors, and alert us to impending visits from Jehovah's Witnesses (we never lived anywhere that had earthquakes, so they were the next biggest disaster). As a result, I always thought that smart dogs were the best. That is, until we got Nola.


We currently have two dogs.

Gracie, who practically has MENSA membership,

"I shall protect you, Tiny Human."

 and Nola.

"Hi! I am a dog."

Nola is painfully cute, but also painfully stupid. Here are some shining examples of her intelligence:

*Can't walk through an OPEN baby gate.

*Doesn't recognize me in baseball cap, even if I put it on while she's watching.

*Will sit in a guest's lap for 3 hours, but if they have to get up for some reason, completely forgets who they are when they come back and barks at them like they're the damn gestapo.

*Attempts to fight any and all dogs over 200lbs. (She weighs 7lbs).

However, in the three years that we've had Nola, she's taught me an interesting lesson: dumb dogs are awesome. I now believe they make the best pets.

For starters, they have the unquestioning obedience of a WWII kamikaze pilot.

"You want me to slam this thing into an aircraft carrier? Sounds legit."

Jack will be lackadaisically walking around with a bowl of goldfish crackers, and Nola will make a beeline right for them. But one sharp "no" from me, and she runs the other direction, hides in a corner, and begins reciting the Act of Contrition. On the other hand, Gracie hears "no", looks right at me for a nano-second, and then barrels into Jack and steals his crackers.

I used to think Gracie was just an a-hole. But now I realize that the problem is that Gracie has the mental capacity to do a cost-benefit analysis before swiping Jack's food. She knows I'm not going to inflict any worse consequence on her than a verbal assault, which is totally worth a bowl of goldfish crackers.

Nola, however, seems to think I'm some kind of Aztec god who shall reign down fire and plague if I become displeased. It never occurs to her that I've never physically harmed her and therefore never will; she is quite certain that my anger will yield a butt-whoopin' straight out of the book of Genesis.

"I probably shouldn't have stolen those crackers."

The same goes for basic commands. Today for example, I was about to take a nice long bubble bath, so I decided to let the dogs out first, lest I should be interrupted from my blissfully aqueous state by a dog with a full bladder. Since it was raining outside, neither dog wanted to go, but all it took was a "go potty, Nola" to send her out into the tempest. Gracie refused. She hates getting wet and will only go outside if pee is imminent. And nothing will impel her to do otherwise. So of course, 15 minutes later, as I'm marinating, Gracie charges into the bathroom and does the pee-pee dance. I hate you, smart dog.

Nola does what she's told. There could be rain, sleet, snow, or Cthulhu in the backyard, and she would face it because that's what she was instructed to do. This relates back to the aforementioned fear of my wrath, but it's also the result of just never realizing she is capable of disobeying me. The desire to exercise free will is a surprisingly higher function, and Nola just doesn't have it.

There are drawbacks to dumb dogs, of course. She's generally useless except for cuddles and if- God forbid- she ever managed to get out, she has the survival skills of a baby bird, rendering her Doggie LoJack microchip completely worthless. But since we're not a family who requires a dog that can actually DO anything (herd/hunt/guide/etc.) Nola's pretty much the perfect pet.

Except for when she hides her toys under my pillow. That really annoys me.