Smart Pets

Have I always had really intelligent pets, or have I only now begun to notice?

Little Dog recognizes several signs that I am about to go outside. At first she noticed when I put my shoes on. She would stand at my feet and act all peppy, as if to say, "WooHoo! We're goin' outside!" Recently she began to realize that sometimes socks precede shoes. Now if I put on socks, even if only to wear them around the house, she thinks a walk is in the offing.

When we start to walk in the mornings, I always stop at the old clock in the DR and wind it. Now, if I happen to wind the clock, regardless of the time of day, she comes running: Are we going on a walk?

Little Dog began to ignore my calls to COME! about a year ago. We often take her outside if we are sitting on the front porch. She loves to lie in the grass and gaze at the squirrels. As we make ready to go inside, I stand up and call, "Come!" As of late she has begun to roll on her back and glance at me as if to say, "Were you speaking to me?" Repeated commands (requests?) of "Come! (clap clap) Come! T---, Come!" are futile as she will totally ignore me.

I decided that due to her advancing age ( she turns 10 this December), she needed a treat for coming promptly. I bought some Bacon Beggin' Strips and began to reward her if she came on the first call. Wow. All I have to say is, "Co--" and she is a little white streak making for my feet. She love, loves the Beggin Strips.

I keep them in the bottom of the wooden jelly cupboard in the kitchen. One of the doors has a teeny squeak, and now, that squeak brings an anxious doggy into the kitchen, ready for a treat, even if I am only fetching a can of Campbell's soup.

The cats are bright, too. Spencie does not sit in the front windows UNLESS one of us goes out for a walk. When we return, there she is, waiting in the window for us. As we open the front door, she jumps down and runs to greet us.

Daniel loves to go in the basement. I am not wild about his going down there as his favorite perch is the roof of my car. When he tires of it he saunters down my windshield, leaving clear footprints all the way.

So I try not to let him down there. He has figured out that if I pick up the clothes hamper, I am going to open the basement door. The willow basket makes a sort of squeaking sound (gee, it seems our house is full of squeaks) and here comes old fat cat -- rushing the basement door. It is sort of amazing.

But then, dear old Francie did turn on a light all by herself one day long ago. DS2 and I looked at each other in absolute shock. I said, "Now turn it off, Francie," AND SHE DID.

Neither of us said a word.