Swish. Swosh. Swish. Swosh. Click click click click. Click click click click.
The subtle sounds vibrate through the house as Dolce and Amore ramble in and out from the pen. Swish. Swosh. The first sound is the dog door flap as it swings back and forth. There is a gentle cadence in the sway of the heavy plastic protecting the entrance to the house. Swish. Swosh. Swish. Swosh. Two dogs in. Two dogs out. The click click click click clatter comes later, as they move further into our residence.
Throughout the day, Malcolm and I tune out the swish swosh as the girls come and go. The sounds blend into the audible buzz of our household. The hum of the refrigerator, ticks of the clocks, birds cawing, cars that drive by. White noise that doesn’t even penetrate.
In our sub-consciousness, we know Dolce just came in from the pen. Swish. Swosh. Coming through for a drive by to check out what’s going on, Dolce swings through the kitchen first before going to the water bowl and on to the couch. As we hear the slurps of her licking up water, somewhere in the back of our brain we tell ourselves to add fresh water and ice to the bowl. We listen to her grunts and sighs as she settles into a comfy position on the sofa. We hear all this as we continue with what we’re doing. We have become so use to the background melody Dolce and Amore make, it has become an echoing beat in our minds. A little song that plays over and over. A part of our everyday life we don’t even notice. White noise we won’t even hear.
“Where are the girls?” Malcolm will ask. “I just heard them go outside,” I’ll reply. I chronicled the swish swosh as an exit. It’s an unconscious, sightless audit I do, taking inventory of the girl’s actions.
During the night, Malcolm and I register the acoustic swish in our sleep. It’s part of the sounds our minds filter out as we slumber. It’s immediately followed by little clicks as their paws hit the brick floors. In our sleep, we mindlessly track them as they wander through the darken house. Click click click click. Followed by another set of click click click click. Never loud enough to fully wake either one of us, never annoying, it’s a calming presence that blankets us with warmth.
Dolce especially has turned into our protector. She likes to sleep just outside the dog door, guarding the entrance. Amore likes to sleep on the cool bricks at the foot of our bed, chaperoning her human folks. During the night they take turns as they roam through the house, securing the premises. Click click click click. Even in the depth of sleep, I hear the clicks as they defend their territory. Patrolling. A small moan is heard as our canine sentinels settle back down to sleep. All is well in their world.
Many believe white noise is like radio static. Disturbing, irritating, abrasive. To Malcolm and I, white noise is music to our ears.