Don’t get me wrong, I love my dogs, but to put it mildly, they aren’t exactly the brightest beasts on the planet. We’ve taken to calling them Dumb and Dumber.
Last night, one of the kids dropped a french fry on the floor. As is typically done with dropped food around our house, it becomes dog food. So, Geek Child #2 says “here Molly” and shows her the french fry. Molly starts jumping back and forth, getting all agitated. I looked at the dog and figured out what the problem was. “She can’t figure out that she needs to go around the table. You’re going to have to go around and give it to her.”
Scooby has done similar feats to show off his mental abilities. When something else dropped on the floor in the living room, he sat beside me and whined because he couldn’t fit under my legs (which were propped up on the coffee table) and couldn’t figure out that all he needed to do was just go around the table. Scooby also stood outside one day and barked for 15 minutes. Finally Geek Child #1 went out to check on him, and he stopped barking. The explanation? Scooby was standing out in the middle of the yard, complaining that he was tied to his chain and he wanted to come in. Only he wasn’t tied to his chain. When my son showed Scooby that he wasn’t attached to the chain, Scooby got this “oh” expression on his face and ran inside.
Once, she was in her cage and we were eating dinner - we’d learned to keep her in the cage while we ate, since she tended to jump right into the center of the food - anyway. I looked up, she looked up, and our eyes met. She ran! toward me, and smack - ran right into the side of the cage. :smack: D’oh!
One of my cats. Even after four years of daily exposure, she STILL hasn’t figured out that the kitty in that certain mirror is not a new addition to the menagerie, that getting in the shower with me means she will get wet every single time, that there is a magic invisible barrier (people call it “a window”) between her and the birds, or that the desk chair moves when she jumps on it.
She’s also freaked out by the printer, but not the vacuum cleaner, and the blind cat sneaks up on her at least twice a day.
Good thing she’s sweet, because she is one of the dumbest animals I have ever known.
We have, since the day we brought our wee kitten home from the SPCA, had a 20 pound bag of cat food sitting, open, next to the dryer.
Every day, twice a day, Lou panics, and is absolutely certain that we have Forgotten To Feed The Cat so that the Cat Will Waste Away and Starve To Death, and we must be reminded by whining, howling, winding between legs, sharp nips to the ankle, etc.
Proud to have reminded us of our Sacred Duty To Feed The Cat, Lou watches as we walk over to the laundry alcove, get a scoop of cat food from the open, 20-lb bag, and deposit it in the food dish.
On the days when we get home later in the evening, when, based on the whining, crying, and general carrying-on, the Cat Is Starving and About To Expire due to our Shameful Neglect, the foodbag sits, as always, open, and undisturbed.
I have the opposite problem. My ferrets are too damn smart! Despite having two full food dishes, they seem to always find a way into the food bag, no matter how I try to keep it out of their reach. They’re like Indiana Jones in search of archaeological finds.
Cuervo the adopted kitty is quickly gaining a rep as being remarkably dense, even for a cat.
He will tire of his stuffed cats and mice, and of chasing Marty around the house and decide to go find a new toy to push around the floor. In his litter box.
He runs through the water dish like it was a wading pool. Unfortunately for the others, this activity usually follows quickly after the one above.
He has more than once ran full-tilt into the glass fireplace doors, attacking the kitty that lives in there.
This afternoon I caught him engaged in a new game called “if i run really really fast on the floor, and try to turn at the last instant before having to make the left turn to the food dish, I can lose traction and slam into the wall like a NASCAR driver” Over, and over, without stopping.
I live in an apartment that adjoins a main house and we have one united front yard with a picket fence. There’s a gate on one side near me and one across from the main house. Dear departed Sunny would see her human near “my” closed gate and look so upset until >ding< she realized she could go out the other open gate and go around. The bent finger going up straight signal that her human used to indicate the light bulb going on was priceless.
My brother had a dog that would sleep, fart, and then wake up startled because it was choking on the fart. It would then run from the room. You needed to leave as soon as she jumped to her feet, or you’ld start to dry heave.
My dumb kitty is afraid of sticks. Anything long and roughly cylindrical, because: Our Swiffer mop makes a hissing sound that is sort of like the sound of an angry cat. Therefore, not only the Swiffer, but brooms, mops, and yes, sticks of kindling are objects of potential danger.
I have a dumb cat and a smart cat. The dumb cat spent an entire year figuring out how to drink from a dripping faucet. This mostly involved him staring at the noise in the drain, trying to get at it, and then being startled by a wet head. He finally figured out that he can just stick his nose in the stream, like a drinking fountain.