So last night our German Shepherd was in the family room while we were all watching a streaming movie. At one point she suddenly got off her big pillow and said: This is boring. Heeeey, I know what we could do…we could play with the laser pointer! It’s right here on the shelf I’m staring at/pointing to. If you get it down you can make it go around the coffee table and I’ll chase the light. Doesn’t that sound fun?
We told her no, we were busy watching the movie but maybe afterwards we could play with the laser. She returned to her pillow disappointed. A short while later she got up again and said: Okay, the laser pointer idea may have been kinda lame but you know what would be a great thing to do, instead of staring at the light box? We could play TUG TOY! Here, I’ll hold my end and you tug on your end. When we showed little interest she became more insistent and said If you’re worried about losing, I’ll tell you right now I intend to let you win at least some of the time. C’mon, play. It’ll be fun!
My cat seems to think that the best time to come over and sit on my lap and have a conversation is when I am reading a book. I must not be doing anything since she can not see my face, so let’s talk nonstop.
My dog bribes me for attention. We give him chews, but he’s kind of indifferent to them. Every now and then, though, he comes racing up to me with a chew in his mouth and drops it at my feet. He then makes excited dachshund squeaky noises until I pick it up. As soon as I’ve accepted the offering, he jumps on the couch, wagging his tail and assuming his, “I’m about to get pets,” stance. Which, of course, he gets.
A few months ago, when I was sick with a cold and lying on the couch, he brought me every chew in the house and left them on my chest before snuggling up to me.
Laser pointers are not good for dogs, particularly high prey drive dogs like GSD. They can trigger obsessive compulsive disorders and other behavioral problems. See laser pointer syndrome.
When I put wet food down for my cat EC she usually dives right in. But sometimes after sniffing it, she figures out my little secret.
EC, looking at me with scorn: You opened this can last night, didn’t you? You think I can’t tell the difference?? And she dashes off in a huff without taking a bite.
Whenever I’m on the phone my cat assumes that the fact that I’m talking means he needs to climb up on my chest and rub my face with his head. This makes for some interesting conversations.
I’ve read that before, but quite honestly we haven’t noticed any OCD or other behavioral problems related to the item. YMMV. As it happens, she hadn’t asked to play with the pointer since before Thanksgiving.
Last night I walked into the kitchen to see my cat Summer laying in front of the three food bowls. She sat up and said “my bowl is empty”. I pointed out that there was some food in the other two bowls but she said “MY bowl is empty and I’m going to starve to death right here in front of you if you don’t fill it right now”. So I did.
Christmas was great. Our hund has learned how to remove wrapping paper. Santa very loosely wraps her chewy toys and Milkbone gifts, but as soon as she was done opening her presents she came up to my wife and asked can I help you open your presents? We told her thank you, but no. She proceeded to watch jealously, and at length gave a big huff of disgust then tried to lay a guilt trip on us bemoaning the fact that she was being discriminated against…just because she doesn’t have those opposable thumb things. I eventually moved to appease and permitted her to help me open one last gift. She thanked us profusely, and thereafter went to work on one of her new Nylabone’s.
I didn’t bother because she would just argue that other tongues had touched that food. Of course, I could have reminded her that she lets those other tongues lick her face and ass but arguing with cats is pointless. Better to just do what they tell you to.
When we were living in Carson City we had three trashbags piled up by the back door, ready to take out in the morning. I’m pecking away on the computer and girl-saluki is snoozing in the easy chair next to it, collecting the occasional head skritch. Suddenly she sits up, staring at the sacks, eases off of the chair and trots over to start nosing about. I figure she heard a mouse since it’s November and they start wanting to come inside.
After a minute she leaves the sacks and goes down the hall, out of sight, then comes back with the anatolian, and the both of them poke about. After a couple minutes the anatolian gives the saluki a look that quite plainly said, “You’re nuts. I don’t hear a thing,” and walked back down the hall.
The saluki comes back and hops up onto the chair, settles down looking at the sacks for a long moment, then laid her head down with a huge sigh.
At the moment, my Mercedes Marie has stepped up next to my desk to patiently tell me I am late with her dinner. Her son, Lon Chaney Jr. has a better method. After asking, he gets down and starts sniffing around my feet and then he casually places a paw on my foot and starts reminding me that his claws are sharp. Works every time. I’m off to feed the cats.
My 18yo cat staggers down the stairs. He has a slight wobble when he walks and his eyes have become a little cloudy with age. He enters the kitchen and looks around blankly, he’s forgotten what he’s come down for. Then he opens the fridge and stars into it wistfully. Is he hungry or just bored? Car keys! that’s what he was looking for. Retrieving the keys from the hook in the hallway he heads towards the back door. Shut. Locked. Handle too high to reach and his paws don’t have the grip to turn the shiny metal anyway. A sigh and he walks back upstairs and flops onto the foyer floor outside my daughter’s bedroom and promptly falls asleep.
We would be very happy if he made it to 22. He has no obvious health problems but he just looks and acts old. We wished him happy birthday last week and he had no idea.
Dogs, when not asleep, spend their time watching us. They observe and understand all our mannerisms, body language, and facial expressions. They become experts at determining if something about to happen may involve them. For example, when I start getting dressed for a bike ride, our dog follows me into the closet and sniffs everything I am putting on: shorts, jersey, and socks. Especially the socks - they’re the givaway that a bike ride does not involve her, so she gives me stink-eye and walks away with a “Fine. Whatever. When will you be home?” look. Which, interestingly, is the same reaction my wife gives me when I go for a ride.
