It’s officially a few weeks into fall. The gorgeous aspens have yellowed brilliantly, then turned golden, and are now fluttering prettily to the ground. Then one day we blink and the branches are completely bare. All this showiness, waning and sloughing happens in preparation for winter’s slumber. It really is quite beautiful. In the midst of this annual transformation, Halloween arrives.
Ah, Halloween: All Hallows Eve. It’s an exciting time for children, what with the costumes and candy pirating, parties and celebrations. What’s not to love? But let’s not forget the canines in your life. Halloween night carries a special thrill for dogs, large and small.
“If Pup ignores all these comings and goings to his domicile, is he even a dog?”
Imagine the festivities from their perspective: It’s 5 pm on October 31. Pup is enjoying a late afternoon nap in a patch of sunlight on the floor—legs twitching, emitting little woofs—when, quite out of the blue, the doorbell rings. He jumps up. Bark-bark-bark-bark-bark-bark! All along the skittering journey to the front door. When the door is opened, what does the dog see? A cluster of small people who don’t look at all like small people. Sheets, funny hoods, glowing eyes, fangs. Grrrrrrr! Bark-bark-bark-grrr! He watches his humans squeal and then clap excitedly over the oddly-cloaked small people and then give them something from a big bowl. Pup is clued in now. Was that a treat? A dog cookie? Are you giving away my dog treats? Pup is confused, glancing from human to the ragtag group on the porch. A sniff test confirms that the giveaway did not involve his treats, thank goodness. For a frightening moment, Pup wondered if his humans had completely come unscrewed. That odd encounter over, Pup shakes it off and reclaims his spot in the sun, lays his head on his paws and attempts to resume his nap. Not two minutes in, the doorbell goes off again. Bark-bark-bark-bark-bark-bark! And it’s the same thing again. The door opens to reveal a group of crazily clad small humans. This time it’s a cat, a ghost, and some scary robot-looking creatures. Same routine with the loud excited noises coming from his humans and them dropping something into bags. This routine will happen nearly nonstop until about 9 pm. Bark-bark-bark-bark-bark-bark! Each time, Pup’s back hair bristles, his adrenaline levels rise dramatically, and his tail stiffens in the mad dash for the front door to investigate who or what has appeared there. It’s a regular barkfest.
Of course, barking incessantly does hold a certain appeal, and the chime of a doorbell is the best excuse for this behavior. Bark-bark-bark-bark-bark is the universally expected doorbell response of the family dog. Seriously, what self-respecting dog doesn’t lose his stuff over the sound of a doorbell? After a few runs to the door, he might just park on the rug just inside. It cuts down on the travel time and skittering around corners. Efficiency is a thing of beauty. The barking, however, is a different story. There will be no cutting back. It’s the one time of year when the doorbell rings nonstop and the one time of year that the family dog is expected to react to that trigger. A dog would be downright foolish to ignore the opportunity.
Some humans seek to avoid the barkfest on Halloween night by shutting Pup inside a bedroom toward the back of the house. Puhleeeze! As if dogs don’t have super-sonic hearing and a sense of smell thousands of times stronger than humans. And I seriously doubt that doorbells aren’t wired to be heard in every room of the house, despite door buffers. Shut up in a room or free to roam, it’s the same routine for the dog: ding-dong = bark-bark-bark-bark-bark! Being locked away might eliminate the grrrrrrr, but only if the room lacks a window to view the kids in costume approaching the house in menacing-looking mobs. If Pup ignores all these comings and goings to his domicile, is he even a dog?
Other folks celebrate Halloween by dressing Pup in costume and promenading him down the street to mingle with the trick-or-treater crowds. It takes a very mellow temperament to be okay with that, but I’ve met many unflappable dogs out on Halloween night who are able to restrain themselves. Then there’s the cute factor of dogs in costume. If the dog will tolerate it, there is a big opportunity for an adorable display on Halloween. Admittedly, a Dachshund dressed as a hotdog is a showstopper. And those costumes that make Golden Retrievers look like lions are very cute. How about the ones that have fake arms sticking out the sides that make them look like pirates holding a sword, or Chuckie with a knife? Pretty innovative. That routine is not for us. Our Daisy gets really excited around kids and new people in general. And we have learned that, despite our warnings, people cannot help themselves from approaching her and they find themselves being jumped up on. She is not a small dog, so beware small humans and elderly folks, unsteady on their feet. They just might find themselves flat on their backs being licked on the face. Problematic on many levels. Not sure what costume would fit her personality either. Perhaps a tornado or a tempest? I think we’ll skip the whole thing. There will be no porch light illuminated at our house on Halloween night, and we don’t even have a doorbell, so there’s little risk of that trigger. Sorry, Daisy. Barktoberfest is canceled.
