We had an unique experience the other night. For over ten years, our primary dog and I have spent ten to fifteen minutes playing fetch with a ball every evening. It has changed a bit over the years. It started out with me throwing the ball, but I got tired of picking up the dirty, slobbery ball, and so I long ago changed to hitting the ball with a hockey stick. I started out playing with her outside, but now always play with her in the unfinished basement.

The primary dog is quite used to this routine. In fact, she starts to pester me about half an hour prior to the standard time we play. She is afraid that I might forget. We’ve done it for ten years, but tonight, I just might forget to take her down, and so she starts to remind me in her doggy way. She keeps nudging me with her nose, and sits staring at me with her pleading eyes. “Don’t forget! It’s time to play! Let’s go. NOW!”

Well, a couple nights ago, we went into the basement, and I got her ball and the hockey stick and hit the ball for her to fetch, and … she turned and ran up the stairs. I called her, but she refused to return. She wouldn’t come back into the basement with me.

It took a minute for me to realize what had happened, for a minute or two later, the basement smoke detector gave its low battery chirp.

The primary dog hates the smoke detectors. I guess they hurt her ears, but she always runs away and hides when I test them or when we inadvertently set them off by burning something in the oven.

The emergency backup dog, on the other hand, didn’t mind the chirping and happily sat in the basement, chewing on a milk jug she had pulled out of the recycling bin. No silly little chirping smoke detector will deter her from chewing on things.