the other heartbeats
There’s something incontrovertibly soothing about another heartbeat in the room, unless, of course, you’ve been trapped within the pages of an Edgar Allen Poe story. Soothing wasn’t really his style, even when there was nothing thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thumping beneath the floorboards. But I digress. If we are very fortunate, that other heartbeat—human or animal—reminds us we are not alone in the world, that we love and are loved in return. Animals appreciate this just as much as humans do, perhaps more so as they are in tune with their senses in ways that put our kind to shame.
When Maisie is anxious or feeling unwell, the first thing she does is come to me and press her head into my chest, her whole body relaxing to the reliable rhythm of my heart. (The hugs and kisses probably don’t hurt either.) Our brave German shepherd-beagle isn’t afraid of much, but, as she navigates life through her senior years, loud noises--like fireworks, thunder, or hail pelting the rooftop--unnerve her in ways they hadn't when she was younger, often sending her from one consoling mommy to the presumed safety of the smallest, quietest bedroom in the house. Sometimes, I join her there, keeping her company until the storm has passed, but, even then, while I’m protecting her, her own instinct is to protect me as well. Because she remains on high alert, keeping her calm for the duration is a challenge.
Enter the HuggiePup™, a.k.a., Hugsy, a plush, cuddly dog toy with its own audible, tangible heartbeat and a heat pack insert to make him feel warm like a real pup.
Before we adopted her, Maisie had birthed and reared nine puppies, all of whom ultimately went to separate homes before their exhausted mama came here to start a new life with us. For as long as we’ve known and loved her, the whimpering sound of puppies has upset our dog as if she is missing her own fluffy brood. She probably is. Dennie and I ha’d seen the HuggiePup™ and other heartbeat puppies before, but we debated whether such a thing would be a source of comfort or distress for Maisie. Would the heartbeat calm her the way mine does and give her something smaller and more vulnerable to protect, returning to her the courage of a mother defending her young? Or would having something akin to a new puppy only cause her anguish over the loss of her own nine? I’m relieved to report, the latter does not seem to be the case.
We’ve not yet used the heat pack (who needs an extra warm cuddle companion in the middle of a record-breaking May heatwave?), and I’m under no delusion that, even with a heartbeat, Maisie believes this is a real dog. She is a genius, as dogs go, but, even the village idiot of the canine set wouldn’t likely mistake a stuffed toy for a living animal. Yet that’s hardly the point. It’s all about the heartbeat. Hugsy has a heartbeat that can not only be heard, it can be felt. Upon Monday afternoon’s introductions, Maisie’s first reflex was to bite the fuzzy little guy. That is, traditionally, the purpose of her toys. I pulled him back, stroked Hugsy’s head, and called him a “good puppy”, as I do with Maisie. She observed, eyes alight with curiosity. I did this once more when she tried to seize him by the head, then reintroduced the pair. At this point, Maisie had accepted that the smiling, plush creature was indeed a good puppy and/or that Mommy was a couple biscuits short of a cookie jar, indicating it might be in her best interest to simply play along. She sniffed her new friend, wrapped herself around him, and fell into the most restful slumber she’s had in a long time. Even now, I am typing this to the cadence of her peaceful breathing and his steady heartbeat. She hasn’t attempted to gnaw on him again.
Maisie is a little spoiled, it’s true, and the word "little" is probably wholly inaccurate. She sleeps in my bed and has double-stacked orthopedic dog mattresses on both floors of our home, as well as a canopied bed for the yard. She has a raised diner for her bowls, enough toys to fill a small warehouse, two parents who dote on her as if she were royalty, and a selection of organic, human-grade meals and treats that would make a Michelin-star restaurant look like a hole in the wall. She will also have her own air conditioner soon to keep her cool at night, and, to replace what has become notably faded and tatty over five years, a velvety soft collar imported from the UK because we could no longer find the ultra-soft, lined hemp collars we used to buy for all our dogs here. (Only the best for our girl.) Now she has the calming benefit of another heartbeat too, but if Hugsy provides her additional comfort and reassurance when she is stressed, sick, or frightened, then he will have been worth every penny. Even if he doesn’t, there’s no denying they make a darling pair.
Get to know Maisie better in the memoir, Moonlight of the Talking Dog.