Lucky dog

My audiologist threw up her hands as if defending herself from a vampire.

“Oh, no!” she said, pretty much as if... well, as if a vampire were on her desk.

Fortunately for both of us, there were no vampires. Merely the remnants of the hearing aid for my right ear.

This was a followup appointment and she had asked how things had been going with my aids, so I pitched the silver earpiece on her desk. It was all that was left after Kindra’s dog, Reno, chewed it up and swallowed the wires and the little speaker that goes into the ear.

I found the earpiece in the bedroom floor where Reno plays with his toys. No teethmarks in it, but it was clear what had happened.

The wires and speaker weren’t to be found, which indicated that Reno had turned them into an article of diet.

(A few night later, he swallowed one of Melo’s socks.

Whole. He lapped water as a chaser and went on playing as if nothing had happened.

Reno is also the dog that chewed my glasses and three - count ‘em - billfolds, including credit cards.)

I explained to the audiologist what had happened, all the while realizing that I was using “the dog ate it” in an innovative way.

I am sure that audiologists keep a shared list of reasons people need a replacement hearing aid.

“The dog ate it” is on the list, just after “it fell into the deep fat fryer” and just ahead of “it fell into the toilet.”

But I digress. If you read this column regularly, you will remember that I got the hearing aids back in July due to problems with tinnitus, which sounds like crickets concentrated in my left ear.

It’s not unbearable, but I’d wanted to neutralize it before it gets worse.

The hearing aids were $2,500 and not covered by my insurance, which means they are an expensive chew toy.

I was the dreading the replacement costs and hoping that hearing aids could be bought by the each and not just by the pair.

If not, I was prepared to let Reno earn some money by hiring him out as a sled dog or something.

The audiologist looked at the remnants of the aid for a moment and said: “I think I can fix that.”

And, sure enough, she did. She was gone for a few minutes and came back with the hearing fixed and apparently as good as new.

The battery was run down, but a few hours on the charger and it was as good as new.

I am a happy camper now, but probably not as happy as Reno, the not-yet sled dog.