DIANE MAKAR MURPHY Nothing works quite like this canine alarm clock

We own a canine alarm clock. I can't recommend it to everyone, but if you must have it, you won't find it on the shelf at Wal-Mart. You must go to pet shops, pounds, humane societies, breeders, kennels or to the classifieds.
Our model is called Zeke. If he continues to work so well, he too may be available shortly.
Now, as those of you who already have one know, a canine alarm clock may not be set for any particular hour. This makes owning one so much more exciting than owning, say, a clock radio.
Take Zeke, for example. Zeke may go off randomly at any hour of the day or night. Often, I don't even know WHAT set off the alarm. But, someone, maybe even Zeke himself, moved the switch -- not to a pleasant musical wake-up (as your clock radio might), and not even to a somewhat acceptably annoying buzz -- but to what I like to call the Tornado Warning.
The Tornado Warning is a loud, deep bark. It sounds like this, & quot;ROAH, ROAH, ROAH, ROAH, ROAHROAHROAH!, & quot; which translates, to the inexperienced sleeping owner, as, & quot;HOLY MOLEY, GET UP, GET UP, I SEE A STRANGER IN THE FOYER AND GARBAGE MEN ARE COMING AND A TORNADO IS ABOUT TO TAKE US TO OZ!!! & quot;
Translation
The practiced owner, however, has come to translate the Tornado Warning a bit more realistically as, & quot;HERE COMES THAT DOG I HATE, GET UP, IS THAT THE MAIL MAN, GET UP, I HAVE TO GO TO THE BATHROOM, NOW! & quot;
I AM such an experienced owner, so I often choose to ignore that initial wake-up call. Yes, the canine model DOES have a snooze alarm.
The other morning, for example. Awakened from a deep slumber, after a restless night, I chose to ignore the initial alarm, which went something like this (those of you with dog alarms may also have heard it this morning): ROAH, ROAH, THE HOUSE IS FALLING DOWN, ROAH, ROAH, HEAR THAT LOUD CAR ENGINE? ROAHROAHROAH. I HATE THAT LITTLE DOG WHY IS HE GOING ON MY LAWN, ROAH, ROAH!!, and so on.
After about a minute, like all reasonable alarms, the Zeke clock fell silent. While an ordinary snooze alarm gives one an extra 10 minutes of shut-eye after the punch of a button, the canine alarm has no such constraints.
This particular morning, about 30 seconds of silence was followed by a gentle, prodding, alarm: & quot;woof. & quot; Then a quietly insistent whine: & quot;mnn, mnn, mnn, mnn. & quot; And finally, what I am sure is a feature exclusive to the Zeke model, an Ear Flap.
Ear flaps are a lovely alarm my dog created in his last three or four months as an already five-and-a-half-year-old alarm dog. (This is a particularly marvelous feature of canine alarms; they are continually evolving.)
Multiple uses
Zeke uses the Ear Flap, patent pending, to politely awaken sleeping owners. He enters the bedroom, stands closest to the person who will respond -- in this case, and perhaps in all cases, the woman, which would be me -- and shakes his head rapidly from side to side. Zeke, if he were not already an alarm dog, could also be tipped into a bowl of batter and be a Mix-master.
This results in a & quot;th-th-th-th-th-th-th-th & quot; or, if that doesn't give you a clear enough idea, the sound of a baseball card clothes-pinned to a bicycle wheel.
So, to recap: Buy the canine clock at a shelter et al. Do not wind or plug in; simply feed twice a day. Do not set; instead utilize neighborhood prompts like dogs, squirrels, postal employees, motorcycles, revved-up cars, circular delivery kids, thunder, joggers, telephone repairmen, loud noises, cats, birds (models may vary; ask your local dog owner for a demonstration).
G'night Gracie. Zzzzzzzzz.
murphy@vindy.com