She watches television. She recognizes the words or music of the commercials that have dogs in them. No matter where she is in the house, she will go and stand in front of the TV waiting for the dog to come on. For 13 years she has watched The Oprah Show in the afternoon. If I forget and don't turn the television on, she barks at me until I do. (If Sophie came on, she went right up to see her.) People can't believe how attuned she is. She looks you in the eye. She hates sunglasses and won't acknowledge anything you say to her unless you remove them. Intelligence, as in Sawtelle dogs, it's more than that. She can communicate.
She has been with us for 13 years and added so much to our lives. Now, despite all the meds and vitamins we give her, she can't walk much anymore, much less navigate our stairs. We have moved her downstairs. She has her own TV and a huge bed to lay on but what she wants most is our company. That's not hard to give. She greets us all through the day with love and joy just for being present. Despite her aches and pains, she seems happy. She exudes gratitude and absolute presence in every waking moment. Like Edgar and his Sawtelle dogs, it is she who has been teaching us.