My husband and I had said that when we moved back home, we’d get a second dog to keep our Chase (BC mix) company. So we shopped around. And around and around. We didn’t want to get the first puppy we saw and after week’s of searching, the local Humane Society had our new addition. A little ball of black and white fur that was so cute and friendly and perfect. So we adopted her and took her home. We named her Chevy – the doggins would forever more be known as Chevy and Chase.

After two weeks with our new puppy, personality emerged but so did concern.

“Mike, I think she’s deaf.”, I said to my husband.

“No. We had a deaf ferret there is no way we have a deaf dog.”

We experimented: She wasn’t afraid of the hair dryer or vacuum cleaner. She slept like the dead. She wouldn’t respond to the jingling keys or whistles. The vet confirmed by clapping his hands behind her head. “Yep, she’s deaf. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve seen a deaf puppy? This isn’t common.”

We seriously considered giving her to a family that had experience with deaf animals. Only because we were afraid that if she ever got out of the backyard, she’d get hit by a car. But after thinking it over for a couple weeks, we decided to learn to live with a deaf dog.

She is a lover girl; loves to sleep next to you and curl up in your lap [as much as she can]. Chevy knows seven hand signals and though we still have trouble with the lead, she has gotten very good at catching the frisbee. We didn’t expect her to grow to 70 pounds but her size is what makes her fun – she’s always running, playing and looking for trouble. I’m glad we stuck it out. And I still do get concerned that something could happen but we keep close tabs and she really doesn’t like being alone so that helps. My Chevy Bear – she’s a keeper.