My Dogs are Smarter (Or how dogs watch TV)

We spent nearly the entire first-year of Lacy's life with us unable to watch a TV program, much less a movie, in it's entirety. Lab puppies, nay puppies in general, are far too lively to sit quietly at their master's behest for too long.

She is nearly 2 years old now and has settled down mightily. For instance, we were able to get through a viewing of Pirates of the Caribbean last night in under 3 hours! Sounds bad, yes, but a year ago it would have taken 2 nights. The presence of a second animal helps also to wring out some of that energy. Needless to say, there is quite a difference between the way we were forced to watch TV a year, year and a half ago and the way we can view programs today.

While a puppy, Lacy would only sit still for minutes at a time then run out of the room to investigate who-knows-what in the kitchen or dining room thus necessitating the clicking of the remote's pause button and one of us running frantically after her. These days, she is more content to sit on her throne (i.e., our large over-stuffed chair in the living room next to the couch) or on the floor within ear-scratching distance of mommy.

As she's gotten older not only has she calmed down, she has also begun "responding" to sights and sounds on the TV screen. Take for example the Domino's Pizza commercial with ringing door-bell that prompts a bark and a quick run to the front door in anticipation of some friendly visitor; or the local car commercial with a boxer that runs across the screen that prompts a low-growl and forces an up-close inspection of the picture.

One of our favorite new TV shows of the season is ABC's Lost. One of the characters, a 10 year old boy, was traveling home to L.A. with his father and his pet dog Vincent, a Yellow Lab ( and am I the only one wondering what an 85-lb Yellow Lab eats on an island in the middle of nowhere?) when the plane crashed on this mysterious tropical island. Recently, one of the shows featured a scene where said boy and dog were scampering across the beach. Lacy, lounging along the back of her throne, was drawn from her doggy-reverie with a jolt at the sound of another dog and immediately hopped off the chair and ran to the TV, demanding to know what was making such a noise with nose only inches from the screen!

When such things occur, I have several responses. What is she reacting to? Is it the same simple act of curiosity that prompts her to run to the door and bark when the neighbor takes his trash container down to the curb?

What does she think when she sees these 2-dimensional dogs? Is it the same curiosity that drives introductions between acquaintances at the dog park? Is it the instinct that promotes defensive posturing and barking as she walks by the neighborhood wall, behind which lurks the menacing, unknown canine with the loud bark? Or is she, like me, left to wonder what exactly does an 85-lb Yellow Lab eat on a tropical island in the middle of the South Pacific?