Hey, Gazoo, think it’s a fluke the furballs have such keen scent and hearing? They’ve honed and adapted them in their (successful) subjugation of mankind. My pooch can be upstairs completely flaked out, dead to the world and dreaming, and all I have to do is get NEAR the kitchen. Poof! The Miraculous Appearing Dog! Hey, I might be getting something to eat in there!
Dog thought: oboyoboyoboy, she’s opening the drawer where the CAN OPENER is! ::dance, wag, “sit”, look cute:: oh well, she’s still close to the REFRIGERATOR! ::wag, tilt head:: last week she dropped a pretzel from the Magic Forbidden Counter, o bliss, it may happen again!
She lies on her rug while I’m cooking; I don’t allow her underfoot. Too scared I might accidentally step on her, splash her w/ hot water, etc. She curls up on her side and watches me but never sleeps because I might drop something. She still has faith, even after the unfortunate incident with a bit of chopped jalepeno. The Lurking Puppy Of The Serengetti leapt on it and scarfed it down w/o sniffing first. It was traumatic for both of us.