When Tikva was a kitten, I’m pretty sure she had the ability to walk through walls.
Oh, and I think I caught her teleporting the other day.
I’ve long been convinced that the Penny-dog has thumbs. She opens things that I can’t open!
I can type.
You may not think that much of a super power, I know.
But I’m not touching the keyboard.
Regards,
Dolly is a Jedi and uses Jedi mind tricks.
She doesn’t bark to go outside, she stands and stares at the door. Eventually, it opens.
She doesn’t always run to get tennis balls, she just stares at them from the patio. Eventually, they come back to her.
She doesn’t beg to be fed. Eventually, the food shows up in her dish.
I am helpless.
My dog has lost his youthful powers – more likely, the Matrix rebooted.
When he was young, and I’d take him to the dog park, Curly delighted in getting other dogs to chase him – he’d annoy them a bit, then take off, and they’d come after him. They’d catch up, too, because while he was quick, he wasn’t very fast on the straightaway; he’d take off with his weird gait, curving slightly to the left or the right, and they’d come right up behind him and pounce…
Well, no. They’d come up behind him, and he’d cut to the side, leaving them in the dust, and then he’d hightail it back the way he came, repeating the rundown and the sudden reverse until they gave up. Or they’d come up behind him, anticipate the cut, and get a faceful of paws as he unleashed his second line of defense – the shoulder roll. They’d be inches away, approaching his broadside at full speed, and he’d drop his outside shoulder and roll on his back just as they pounced, helping them on their way over him with a thrashing assault of quadruped fury. It was judoesque and hella funny to watch.
These things are not superpowers. Impressive for a 90 pound dog, but not unheard of, and certainly not contrary to the laws of physics.
Once in a while – perhaps when too many dogs were on his tail (for he loved nothing better than to get half a dozen chasing him), or when his opponents were too canny for his other tricks, or maybe for sheer joy in the mindfuckingness of it – he’d leap into the air and rotate.
Imagine watching as your dog is having fun chasing another dog across the park. Now imagine your jaw dropping as time stops, and your dog stops too, digging his claws into the turf and staring with a canine “what the fuck?” as the insolent overgrown pup he’s running down elevates and rotates just like that chick in The Matrix, only without the cool shades and leather jacket, and lightly touches down facing him, suddenly making him think: … my, he’s a big fella, isn’t he? Looks half pit bull too… I wonder if he’d like to make friends?
Sadly, there’s a price to be paid for violating God’s laws; a young dog’s ligaments aren’t fully developed, and throwing that much weight around subjects them to a lot of strain. By the time he was 2, Curly had blown both ACLs (well, they’d be ACLs in a human; in a dog they’re CCLs – but I digress) and required surgery in both knees (well, they’d be knees in a human; in a dog they’re stifles – but I digress again) in order to walk. He’s almost 7 now, and still running around OK, although it’s clear that his legs ache sometimes. We don’t take him to the park any more – in fact, we don’t walk him any more, as he sometimes he ends up limping, which takes months to go away. Chasing birds and squirrels out of the back yard seems to keep him fit, and he still seems to think he’s a pup (the other half is Labrador retriever, after all). But I’ll always remember those incredible moves in the park, and I wonder if he does too.
It was magic.
My wife’s cat has a sixth sense that can sense what chair I want to sit in. Of course, he then sits in it and glares at me if I attempt to move him. If we could train him to use this power for good and not for…OK, evil, I would sure apprecite it.
I’m convinced that cats have this ability.
Go under the bed and then WHOOOSH they are across the house sitting there in the blink of an eye. How in the hell do they do that?
Baron can read. When I’m sitting on the couch reading, he lays down next to me and puts his head on my arm when I’m holding a book. He reads with me.
Our cat Coco Le Poof is a living EEG. As my wife and I drop off to sleep, the changing patterns of our alpha, delta, and theta waves alert her that it is time to either:
(1) start meowing as if she were on fire, or
(2) tear through our bedroom as if someone were trying to set her on fire.
The other morning, as usual, my husband informed me (as usual) of the status of the cats. Molly is on the patio, the boys are outside. Okay, fine. I put Molly out. I go to work, come home, and am met by a sleepy Rio, coming down the hall from the direction of the bedrooms. :dubious: Husband insists I must have let him in. I did NOT.
I think I’ve mentioned before about our big ol’ 14 pound Tom named Pile(as in ‘of shit’)
He could go intangible. You would try to pick him up to take him outside, and he would just kind of slide and ooze through your fingers and you were left with empty hands and he wouldn’t have even woken up. It’s kinda of amazing how a cat that big had nothing to get a hold on.
These aren’t superpowers - these are perfectly normal cat abilities!
My dog can detect cheese from three miles away.
One of our cats, Maggie, once did a clever impersonation of the sound of an MG fuel pump.
When our boy cat was a kitten, he had powers comparable to DC’s “The Flash.” Now it’s more like Marvel’s “The Blob.”
My new cat, Lemuria, is about 6-7 years old. She was brain-damaged somehow before she got to the shelter, so her motor skills are, uh, impaired.
At the shelter she would do things like stop in the middle of the hall, look straight up at the ceiling, and paw randomly at the air. We called it “chasing purple dolphins.” Hey, look, Lemuria’s chasing those purple dolphins again!
Or was she? She does similar things at home now, and seems to occasionally lose control of her front paws, like they have a mind of their own for a few seconds, then she’s fine and running around again, chasing nothing.
I’m convinced she sees at least one other dimension. Her loss of control is only what we perceive, she’s really getting grabbed by the paw by something on the other side…
That’s a superpower!
I’ve had a couple of guinea pigs that actually had superpowers, when compared to other guinea pigs.
Bannor had jumping ability that was off the charts. Supposedly guinea pigs/cavies cannot jump more than a maybe 4 inches up (I went into a store once that had them in an enclosure with 6-inch walls - they claimed none ever jumped out). Bannor would jump from his 15 gallon tank into the other pig’s 15 gallon tank - a height of about 14 inches. I got a screen cover for his tank (the type used for lizards) but he still jumped. Then I put a 5 pound weight on top of the screen - and one day, I came in, Bannor was in the other pig’s cage, and the screen was UPSIDE-DOWN atop his cage, with the weight on top!!!
He also jumped out of my hands a few times, which may have contributed to his early death at 2.
I’m thinking that Casey may be immortal.
Or maybe I’m just hoping.
Lilith can fart in our room in the middle of the night, even though she’s sleeping in her crate in the next room. At least that’s what my husband tells me.
One of my dogs can do the full flag alphabet using her ears. She is a stray from Hungary, so possibly a former KGB spy.
http://picasaweb.google.com/myriamschloesser/Perdita#5314090088528774338
http://picasaweb.google.com/myriamschloesser/Perdita#5314090088528774338
http://picasaweb.google.com/myriamschloesser/Perdita#5314090101103438834