The first evidence of our pug’s hearing loss was her sudden disinterest in barking at the garbage man. We mistook it for age related apathy at the time, the same sort that overtakes older humans, should we live long enough.

Then she stopped noticing when people walked into the room. I come home from work—an event which traditionally inspired cries of joy, copious yip yips—and Minnie remains snoring on the couch, unaware her favorite person has reentered the castle.

She was diagnosed with a double ear infection, but that turned out to be a coincidence. Time, that tenacious pursuer of all things, has chased down Minnie’s sense of hearing and stolen it away.

“You can hear me, Minnie! You can hear me!”
I say this to her sometimes, wishing it to be true. Occasionally I believe it. But if she hears anything, it’s through a mysterious blend of touch and smell. (Though Minnie’s sniffer has never been blue ribbon by dog standards.) She is a pug, after all. The breed’s role to ancient Chinese royalty was that of a furry security alarm, a duty best served with fully functioning ears.

Thankfully, Minnie has never been depended on for security. We have ADT for that. Her job now is the same as it’s always been. Look cute. Compel us with her irresistible moon eyes to get out of the house, go someplace.

I imagine it gets lonely for her, a creature born to partake in what’s going on, and now all that’s going on is silent. No footfalls of her people walking around upstairs. Is anybody home? Did my people go away? No neighborhood dogs barking. Am I the only one left, just me and my jerk brother? People talking, mouths moving, soundless.

If it’s true, that seeing is forgetting the name of the thing one sees, is there an equivalent for hearing? Is there a way Minnie’s loss of hearing makes her world more rich? Hearing is forgetting the sound of the thing one hears. So when I say, “You can hear me, Minnie!” she understands me still. Not by the shape of my voice, but by a thousand silent signals.

And with her moon eyes, she responds to me, “Yes! I hear you very well.”