LAST week, I told you about Biffy, the elderly Springer Spaniel who seemed to have withdrawn from family life.

Once a thoroughly dependable and playful pet, he had reacted aggressively by baring his teeth to his owners' grandson when the wee boy ran up to him while he was asleep in his bed and smacked him rather too hard on his bottom.

The grandson hadn’t meant any harm by it and his reaction had been a heady emotional mix of melodrama and hysteria, claiming he had ‘been bitten by Biffy’. Initially, his sensible owners had decided Biffy should be put to sleep but a little discussion and some basic investigation had revealed the truth.

Biffy was stone deaf. He could not hear a thing.

His hearing loss was an age related process called presbycusis (pronounced prez-buh-kyoo-sis), which is slowly progressive, making it difficult for owners to diagnose.

After a lifetime of social interaction with his human family, it is worth stopping for a while and considering what that must mean to a dog. Humans who lose their hearing can articulate this to their loved ones. Dogs cannot. Biffy must have felt ostracised from the group around him.

He no longer heard vehicles arrive or people at the front door. Asleep in his bed, they didn't greet him when they entered, presuming, mistakenly, that he had lost interest and was sleeping peacefully.

Instead he would notice their presence only when he woke up and realise sadly that they had ignored him. Indeed, he slept deeply because there was nothing to wake him up.

At play, he could not hear his owners' encouraging shouts when he retrieved a ball, so he simply gave up on the game. And, of course, he got a terrible fright when the grandson whacked his bottom, as he had no warning of his approach. Like so many deaf dogs, Biffy was not enjoying himself.

But it doesn't have to be like that. Think about it. We all use our body in different ways when we give commands. Biffy's owners rewarded him with a treat and a smile whenever he looked at them, so he did this more and more, allowing much greater opportunity for interaction.

They began to exaggerate their body and arm movements, so that he realised they were communicating. They made a running motion with their arms when they said 'walkies', then immediately got his lead. Pretty soon, Biffy would jump up happily when they did this.

They would tap the floor twice near his bed, then touch his shoulder gently to wake him. Before long, he got the message. When he chased his ball, they had him running back to their open arms as they knelt on the ground and, again, that big smile.

They discovered he was more confident when running with other dogs, so they enlisted friends as playmates. They cuddled him a lot and spoke soothingly to him, which he loved. They kept a set routine, so that he could anticipate interaction.

At any time, our elderly pets can lose their hearing. Matching hand and body signals now with vocal commands can really help later if it happens.