The Smartest Dog in America Is ...

RD’S editor-in-chief was convinced that his beloved Sadie was the most brilliant canine in the land. Readers may have persuaded him otherwise.

Our editor-in-chief was convinced that his beloved Sadie was the most brilliant canine in the land. Readers may have persuaded him otherwise.

In my February “Dear Reader” column, I issued a challenge: “If your dog is as smart as our Sadie, I’ll grant you a year’s subscription.” I didn’t expect much from this tongue-in-cheek wager, but 400 replies later, I see I badly underestimated the situation. After all, these are your DOGS I was woofing about. And your stories of sly, wry, silly companions were so poignant and funny that we decided to publish a kennel of them. One reader did earn the free RD because of her pooch’s teaching feats, but let’s be clear: Sadie is still co-champ.

THE WINNER! Colby Taught a Toddler to Walk

I was sitting in the living room, keeping an eye on my one-year-old daughter, Rachel, who was crawling around. Colby, a retired guide dog, was lying nearby, kind of half-asleep. Rachel crawled over and pushed herself up so that she was leaning on his back. She started rocking back and forth, and then Colby very slowly got up. I thought that he was tired of Rachel and was leaving. But as he got up, Rachel stood with him, holding on to his back. Colby stood there for a bit and then slowly started walking. Rachel took a few steps with him and then plopped on her bottom. Colby sank to the floor. In a bit, Rachel started leaning on his back again. Again, he rose and started walking. Rachel took a few steps, wobbled, and sank to the floor. This scenario was repeated over and over. At first, I couldn’t figure it out. Finally I did. Colby was teaching Rachel to walk! —Robyn Sierchio*

Las Vegas, Nevada

Nestlé Gets Bright Ideas

My eight-month-old Havanese puppy, Nestlé, sleeps in a wire crate right next to my bed, and next to her is a three-way touch lamp. I turn it on at five when I get up to let her out. One morning, she started being restless at 4:15. I told her to go back to sleep. She wouldn’t. Then I heard her pawing at the lamp. At 4:30, she turned it on. I finally got up and put her out, and she had to potty! I thought it was a fluke.

Two days later, at 4:35 a.m., she did it again. This time, she tapped the lamp three times to get it to the brightest setting. Her Royal Highness wants up! A few weeks later, at 4:24 a.m., the light went on again. She’s done this multiple times when she needs to go out. So now the dog controls what time I get up. —Liz Moore

Post FALLS, Idaho

Macy Conjures Imaginary Visitors

We had two dogs: Tonka, the sweetest rottweiler in the history of

the world, and Macy, the gentlest pit bull. But we had only one Kong chew toy, and Tonka liked to sleep with it between his front paws. If Macy wanted to play with the Kong, Tonka would waken, lift his eyebrow, and warn Macy to leave the toy alone.

The one thing that united these rivals was the appearance of anyone outside the window. Both would jump to their feet, run to the window, and bark. One day, Macy developed a strategy. She jumped up, started barking, and ran to the window. Of course, Tonka followed. As Tonka searched for the “intruder,” Macy circled back, grabbed the Kong between her smirking lips, and trotted to her corner. Her little game worked for years. —David Maupin

Midlothian, Virginia

My wife raised Texas from a six-week-old pup into a tall, playful 90-pound boxer who never left her side. He was truly a gentle giant. He faithfully slept at the foot of our bed for nine years, covered with her pink bathrobe.

Then my wife got sick with ALS. When she went into hospice, she continually asked to see Tex, so one day I borrowed a service-dog blanket and took him to see her. We rode the elevator up to her floor, and when the door opened, he bounded to her room. How he knew which room, I don’t know. When I got there, Tex was on the foot of the hospital bed, his large paw already in my wife’s hand.

Back at home that night, Tex was restless and would not sleep in his bed, so he slept on the floor near me. The next morning, I found he had passed away. My beautiful wife of 46 years passed away the next day. I have the ashes of both, and this summer I spread them together in a small stream in Wyoming, high in the Rocky Mountains, where they both loved to travel and play together. —Jim Sherrard

Plano, texas

Griffin knows how to whisper. chatham, New Jersey —Peggy Melvin

Skippy Knows Who Is Deaf

Almost as soon as our Welsh corgi, Skippy, came to live with us, she sensed that my children and I cannot hear. When someone comes to the door, she jumps up, runs to make sure a guest is there, and then runs to nudge, nudge, nudge me until I follow her to the door. Same with my children. But with my husband, who has perfect hearing, Skippy doesn’t nudge—she barks at him! And if Skippy needs us to wake up at night, she rises on her hind legs and nudges me or my children awake, but with my husband, she goes to his side of the bed and barks. Pretty smart dog, huh?

—Becky Meyers

Cedarville, Michigan

Abby Runs the Family’s Recycling

Our Australian shepherd comes running when she hears the crinkle of an empty water bottle, the sound of a cereal box being flattened, or, her favorite, a plastic lid or dish ready to go out. Why? She’s a master recycler! She constantly patrols our house for recyclables to grab and take to our garage recycling bin. And if she wants a treat? She brings me an empty cardboard box. —Diane Schroeder

norman, oklahoma

Birdie Is the No. 1 Treadmill Master (Also No. 2)

We live in Colorado, where walking the dogs outside is not always a viable option, so running on a treadmill is a wonderful trick to teach the pooches. I was thrilled by my puppy’s ability to learn so quickly and with so much enthusiasm. What I did not appreciate until much later was how well I had trained her to remain on the treadmill until I gave a release command.

It was Christmas. The family had gathered from hundreds of miles away. The grandchildren were excited

Peyton knows when it’s Saturday. When I come home from errands, he runs to his bed. He doesn’t do that any other day. —Linda Bradlyn Sylmar, California

to open the gifts, and the adults were ready to eat. But first I had to show off the new pup’s treadmill trick. I knew Birdie would impress them by the way she followed my commands: Go to the treadmill room, get positioned just right, wait for the machine to turn on, and, most important, proceed to walk until instructed otherwise. Birdie did not falter. She remained on that treadmill even after she gave a warning bark. Birdie tells us she must use the bathroom by barking once. But my husband and I were confident that we could keep showing off our pup’s athletic ability and did not heed her.

She barked several more times. Then it happened. First Birdie went number one, and in large part it went unnoticed for a moment. Then Birdie went number two, which could not go unnoticed. Birdie runs, not walks, on the treadmill at 5.6 miles per hour. When number two hits a treadmill at 5.6 miles per hour, it is shot off the back of the treadmill like buckshot and onto everything in its path.

The grandchildren were in awe, the adults disgusted, my husband and I mortified. The dog, however, was pleasantly enjoying herself, since now she was up for a long run. I quickly excused her and went to cleaning up the mess that I believe I caused by teaching the puppy to remain on the treadmill no matter what. I must say that Christmas 2012 is still talked about— but not always with a smile.

—Tammy Fehringer

Peetz, Colorado

Shadow Outsmarted Trainers

We had to put our Belgian sheepdog Shadow to sleep yesterday. He was hands down the worst dog I have ever had—not so much a superdog as a superbad dog. For the first two years of his life, we worked relentlessly to train him to do the basic things. He balked at all of it. When made to lie down, he would roll

Where most dogs are taught to shake hands, Diesel learned this move with the cue “Show me the money.” —Lorissa Juntti Ishpeming, michigan

on his back and cry out as if he were being beaten. If pushed too hard, he would bite—never to draw blood, but enough to let you know who was in charge.

Frustrated, we sent him to a professional trainer, who took him into his home to work with him one-on-one. After the agreed-upon two weeks of training, the handler called and sheepishly asked for another two weeks with Shadow, free of charge, as he had been unable to make any progress. In another two weeks, we got the same phone call. So, after six weeks, the dog trainer returned our dog with apologies, stating that this was the first dog that he’d ever deemed untrainable. Shadow appeared quite pleased with himself.

For all of his 13 years, Shadow bested us, allowing us the privilege of living in his home. On his last day, my daughter commented, “Mom, I know he doesn’t feel good because he is not growling at me when I kiss his face.” That was him. Shadow was a genius. How else could he have compelled us to love the worst dog in the world?

—Julie Campbell

Mineral Wells, Texas

Misty Mourns for Dad

When my husband, Jack, was sick and in and out of hospitals and rehab centers, every time I came home, Misty would sit at the gate and wait to see whether he came out of the car. After he died, she would still sit at the gate waiting for him to come in. I knew that I needed to find a way of giving Misty closure. So about a week after his funeral, I took her to the cemetery with me. As we walked up to his grave, I said to her, “Misty, this is where Dad is now,” not sure what to expect. She started sniffing the broken ground, crying; then she walked to me and leaned against my leg. I knelt down, and we both cried. And from that point on, she never waited at the gate for him again.

—Loretta Riker

Taylorsville, Kentucky

Molly Fetches the Heart Medicine

When I was sick and very weak upstairs with the flu, my husband, Rey, was working on the lowest

floor of our split-level. All of a sudden, my heart rate started to speed up. Oh my—i’d forgotten to take the medicine that helps regulate my heartbeat for three days! That can be fatal; was I going to die? I yelled for Rey, but he couldn’t hear. Then our toy fox terrier, Molly, ran into the room. I could barely tell her to get Daddy. I tried again, and finally she ran out of the room and down the stairs, and I heard her barking frantically. Rey rushed upstairs and got my medicine. I believe that Molly saved my life that day.

—Valerie Magpoc

Brunswick, Ohio

Loki Nursed a Cancer Patient

I was in my 30s when I was diagnosed with a rare gastrointestinal cancer. I was quite sick after surgery and chemotherapy and having a hard time with fatigue, depression, and anxiety. My Siberian husky rescue, Loki, would gently poke me from my nest on the couch when he wanted some exercise. Often, I didn’t want to go. But the exercise, the fresh air, feeling needed when I had been the needy one for so long—it all helped. Loki got me moving and got me stronger when my own willpower wasn’t enough. And when the tears and frustration came, he’d curl up on my lap—yes, a 65-pound lapdog!—and look into my eyes, and somehow I knew tomorrow would be a better day.

—Christine Barczak

Lake View, new York

Kymo Can Do Anything

Here are three things to know about our superhero dog, Kemosabe (Kymo for short), whose name means “trusted scout” or “faithful friend”:

1. Once, a burglar was trying to break into our garage when Kymo showed up. It wasn’t the fact that there was a huge dog barking in a deep, powerful voice that made him leave his pry bar and other assorted tools. It was the snapping teeth, which

Brandy knows more than 200 words in English—and 50 in Spanish. —Magdalena Jacobo San Bernardino, california

sounded like a 600-pound alligator.

2. A neighbor stopped by to share some leftover chicken salad. My sister and I were home from college and did not remember where the bowls were. After we repeated the word bowl a couple of times, Kymo dropped her dog bowl on the neighbor’s toe, looking back and forth between the chicken salad and her bowl.

3. One morning, my mom made pancakes that weren’t so good, which my dad and I alluded to. Her response? She gave them to the normally ravenous Kymo, who daintily took them to the door, went out in the backyard, and buried them. —Jim Storey

Kenosha, Wisconsin

Roxie Finds Missing Lawn Tools

One day, I was using the string trimmer in the backyard when it suddenly stopped working correctly. Upon examination, I noticed that the screw-on “bump” knob on the bottom that holds the string assembly in place had come off. As I was about to begin my methodical grid search of the backyard, Roxie, our red Queensland heeler, trotted over to one of the many bushes to get her tennis ball. As she came prancing over to me to play fetch, I told her I couldn’t, that I had to find the part. With that, she dropped her ball between my feet and looked up at me. As I was about to tell her again that I couldn’t play, I noticed her “ball” was the knob to my string trimmer. And her look was one of “Is this what you were wanting?” Needless to say, the string trimmer was put down for a few minutes while we played fetch with her tennis ball.

—Keith Whyte

Chesterfield, Virginia

Jack Anticipates Seizures

Our dog Jack runs to our dog Buddy when one of Buddy’s seizures is about to happen, then sits next to him, looking outward, to protect Buddy until it passes and he can walk. Jack was not trained for this.

—Virginia Matheny

Lynn Haven, Florida

Binky Treats Migraines

I get migraines, and Binky knows when they are bad. No matter where she is or whatever the noise around us, Binky comes bounding straight toward me, on a mission to assuage the pain and depression that comes with the migraines. She licks my face fast and hard, trying her best to lick all my pain away. If I am lying down, I’d better be prepared— because she will jump on my chest and face me down like a hunk of meat, taking on the challenge of licking me into being well again.

—Elaine Perkins

Louisville, Kentucky

Mckenzie Is a Fantastic Actor

Mckenzie grew up at a farmhouse. Initially, the fence around the property was old and had several large gaps, so I reinforced the bottom with chicken wire and thought all was well. Mckenzie would spend his days frolicking in the large yard while Connie and I were at work and Mckenna was at school.

One day, while on a job in the area, I stopped home to visit. As I pulled up to the driveway, I saw Mckenzie outside of the fence playing in the daisies, dancing and nosing at a large butterfly hovering just out of his reach. I watched Mckenzie enjoying himself until, suddenly, he realized he wasn’t alone. He took one look at me and hightailed it to a hole under the fence, wriggling back into the yard. He ran around to the rear of the house, the place where he was usually asleep when we came home. As I stood and watched, Mckenzie then proceeded to come around the corner of the house, stretching as if he had just woken up. Then, continuing his act, he looked at me as if he had just noticed I was home and excitedly came up to the fence, where he sat in his “proud boy” stance, as if he had been good all day and was glad to see me! I laughed as I opened the gate, and then I stood and gave him a frown. With my hands on my hips, I asked the little faker where the hole was. To my surprise, he lowered his ears and dejectedly walked over to the spot in the fence he had earlier wriggled through and sat down, looking at me. I laughed so hard I cried. —John Miatech

Jackson, Michigan

Gus reads Reader’s Digest. Toms River, New Jersey —Jennifer Goodwin