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When Your Pets Do Creepy Stuff
#1
My Tamar, a three year old, soon to be four years old, is mouthy, like her father Maxx. She is a diva and can be very demanding, towards my Mother. She will occasionally try to pull that crap with me, but she responds well to the "Look".

When she went into my mother's room and demanded she follow her, I ignored her, because she does this when she wants Mother and me in the same room. She is weird like that sometimes. She is not happy until she has the both of us in the same room, then she is as happy as a pig in feces.

Today Mother wasn't giving in to her, so she came to me whining. I asked her what she wanted and she led me to Mother's room. Of course, I thought she just wanted us in the same room, and she wanted me to be the one that changed rooms this time.

I told her to go pound sand, and was walking by to the living room, when she stopped, looked at me like I was crazy, and went into the kitchen. Now that is a no no. When I went into the kitchen to chastise her, she ran onto the porch and stood by her feeding bowl. I reminder her that it was not 3pm, their regular feeding time, so she still had 30 minutes to wait. She was not having it. She gave me plenty of mouth. Much more than usual. Then I noticed the others were waiting to be fed.

It hit me like a ton of bricks! Today is Wednesday. I always feed them a half hour earlier on Wednesdays, because I serve at the church, and I want to make sure they had plenty of time to get out, burn up some energy, and do their business before they are left alone in the house.

Looking at them standing there, waiting, I got the creepy feeling that I was looking at the offspring of Einstein. The dog in the Dean Koontz novel, "The Watchers".

They have done some pretty smart things in the past but I never really thought much about it. They are all purebred registered Siberian Huskies, and they are pretty smart dogs as the breed goes, but they have got my guard up now. Being able to tell time is very common, I am just not so sure about being able to tell the days of the week, and being able to tell time.

From now on out, I am going to be the watcher.


Watchers is a 1987 suspense novel by American author Dean Koontz. Along with Strangers, Lightning, and Midnight, Watchers is credited with establishing Koontz's status as a best-selling author.[1]

Quote:Einstein
A genetically altered golden retriever, created in a top-secret government laboratory, that has acquired a level of intelligence rivaling that of some human beings. Forms a close relationship with Travis and Nora.

Watchers (novel)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Watchers_(novel)
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#2
It’s weird how they seem to know the time. Mine know when my husband is about to be home. They will sit in front of the door and stare at it a few minutes before he gets here. When he was in the oilfield our German Shepherd would know the difference between him just going to town and him leaving for work. He would try to follow him if he tried to leave for town without him but wouldn’t when he was going to work. 

I think that may have been because he saw him carry his rig bag though. He’d be so sad to see him drive off that he’d just lay in the driveway until I’d make him come in. Sometimes I’d be sad too so I would sit there with him for awhile. I sure miss that dog.

My horse on the other hand does tell time with her tummy. If I get busy in the house and am 1 minute late with her feed she will make her way to the porch and stomp her hoof while pressing her face to the glass on the door, to let me know.
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#3
(03-30-2022, 08:47 PM)VioletDove Wrote: It’s weird how they seem to know the time. Mine know when my husband is about to be home. They will sit in front of the door and stare at it a few minutes before he gets here. When he was in the oilfield our German Shepherd would know the difference between him just going to town and him leaving for work. He would try to follow him if he tried to leave for town without him but wouldn’t when he was going to work. 

I think that may have been because he saw him carry his rig bag though. He’d be so sad to see him drive off that he’d just lay in the driveway until I’d make him come in. Sometimes I’d be sad too so I would sit there with him for awhile. I sure miss that dog.

My horse on the other hand does tell time with her tummy. If I get busy in the house and am 1 minute late with her feed she will make her way to the porch and stomp her hoof while pressing her face to the glass on the door, to let me know.

They do have their own way of letting you know what they want.

Sylvester one of my Huskicats, becomes supper lovable. He purrs, lays in your lap, rubs on you, tries to get you to pick him up, if you are standing. Enoch, my other Huskicat, just yells. I swear you can hear him a block away, and he will get in you face and yell.

He is as mouthy as the rest of the Huskies, and loud! So loud!
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#4
(03-30-2022, 08:19 PM)NightskyeB4Dawn Wrote: My Tamar, a three year old, soon to be four years old, is mouthy, like her father Maxx. She is a diva and can be very demanding, towards my Mother. She will occasionally try to pull that crap with me, but she responds well to the "Look".

When she went into my mother's room and demanded she follow her, I ignored her, because she does this when she wants Mother and me in the same room. She is weird like that sometimes. She is not happy until she has the both of us in the same room, then she is as happy as a pig in feces.

Today Mother wasn't giving in to her, so she came to me whining. I asked her what she wanted and she led me to Mother's room. Of course, I thought she just wanted us in the same room, and she wanted me to be the one that changed rooms this time.

I told her to go pound sand, and was walking by to the living room, when she stopped, looked at me like I was crazy, and went into the kitchen. Now that is a no no. When I went into the kitchen to chastise her, she ran onto the porch and stood by her feeding bowl. I reminder her that it was not 3pm, their regular feeding time, so she still had 30 minutes to wait. She was not having it. She gave me plenty of mouth. Much more than usual. Then I noticed the others were waiting to be fed.

It hit me like a ton of bricks! Today is Wednesday. I always feed them a half hour earlier on Wednesdays, because I serve at the church, and I want to make sure they had plenty of time to get out, burn up some energy, and do their business before they are left alone in the house.

Looking at them standing there, waiting, I got the creepy feeling that I was looking at the offspring of Einstein. The dog in the Dean Koontz novel, "The Watchers".

They have done some pretty smart things in the past but I never really thought much about it. They are all purebred registered Siberian Huskies, and they are pretty smart dogs as the breed goes, but they have got my guard up now. Being able to tell time is very common, I am just not so sure about being able to tell the days of the week, and being able to tell time.

From now on out, I am going to be the watcher.


Watchers is a 1987 suspense novel by American author Dean Koontz. Along with Strangers, Lightning, and Midnight, Watchers is credited with establishing Koontz's status as a best-selling author.[1]

Quote:Einstein
A genetically altered golden retriever, created in a top-secret government laboratory, that has acquired a level of intelligence rivaling that of some human beings. Forms a close relationship with Travis and Nora.

Watchers (novel)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Watchers_(novel)

Animals can tell time. I feed a bunch of community cats, 5 minutes before time to eat they all start coming up.Before time changed, I started feeding later and later until it was a hour later than I had been feeding them, now it's back to about 5 minutes before they start coming up.
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#5
I just lost a cat back in mid November, that had been with me 20 years... she was 21. She was, or so she thought she was, my guardian. LMAO, more like my drill sargent. 

She kept me on schedule... screaming at me until I obeyed LOL. Shower time.. laundry day/time... oh... and bedtime LOL... try telling a demanding cat you aren't ready to go to bed yet. It doesn't work. When she was younger, she'd alert me if I wandered away from the kitchen leaving water running. She acted like she was my mother.. LOL

Cats can be just as intelligent as dogs. She didn't stop her screaming until I did as I was told... amazing, I miss her, but not the nagging
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#6
Crazy isn't it. Animals are great time tellers ...  on that note,

We got a lot of cats.
Each and every one of them can not only tell time, but they can forecast the weather. Everyone knows how well animals are tuned into their environment, but our cats are better than the people on the television. We can tell by their energy levels, sleeping habits, which rooms they go to, etc. They have patterns. It takes them about 2 months after moving house for them to develop their patterns specific to the new place (we moved about 3x last year... started losing count, but that is a whole 'nother story, and no I am not a fugitive!! tinylaughing ).
Their fur is sensitive to humidity and electricity in the air, they are highly temperature sensitive, and I wouldn't doubt they are living barometers.
I think the more cats you have the easier it is to use them as a weather forecasting tool because you can see the group behavior over time.

Or maybe I am just a batty cat lady.
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#7
I have two cats. Peanut and Pippy. I got Peanut from a shelter on the way home from my wife's mothers funeral. My wife had been wanting a kitten for sometime so I thought stopping at the animal shelter would be a respite from the grief.  We got to the shelter and found several cats. Most were quiet and just curled in the cages. Peanut, she was strutting around the cage rubbing her face on the bars and meowing. She's an orange tabby was about 8 months old at the time. We took her out of the cage and she went right to my wife and my wife held her. Peanut meowed and rubbed against my wife's face. She was very affectionate. After a bit my wife handed her to me to hold while she went to fill out the papers for Peanut's adoption. Her name was Ashley at the shelter. My wife named her Peanut immediately after we adopted her.

We had Peanut for almost to years when a cat of my mothers had kittens and again my wife wanted one. This is how we got Pippy. Again my wife named her because Pippy has a squeaky meow. Also at this time my wife was close to bedridden with stage 4 metastatic breast cancer which migrated into her ribs, hip and her T-10 vertebrae. So another cat would be good company for her during the day.

Peanut was with us for about a year before the cancer in my wife reasserted itself and spread. So she was witness to the extreme change when my wife was confined to bed and had to use crutches to get around otherwise. I was working 10 hours a day so Peanut was good company and then Pippy later. Peanut would lay with her and snuggle with her at night. Pippy wasn't nearly as affectionate and took some time before she felt comfortable around my wife.

Okay now the creepy part. My wife passed away in August of 2020 at 52 years of age. I brought her home for hospice care in early July 2020 and she got 8 weeks to be surrounded by all who loved her. And she was well loved my Susan. Peanut was by her side all the time and Peanut seemed to know Sue's days were few.

I recently moved and I have been going through pictures, I have a number of pictures of my wife in a envelope on the counter in the kitchen. I heard some noises and went to the kitchen where I found Peanut had somehow gotten a picture from the envelope of my wife and I. She was licking the picture where my wife's face is and seemingly obsessed. I took the picture and put it in a drawer. But Peanut kept getting pictures out the envelope and licking my wife's face. I burst into tears when I realized she was missing my wife too!

That wasn't too long ago and I have purposely left out pictures of my wife and when Peanut finds them she licks my wife's face! Okay probably more endearing than creepy. It is weird though and sadly sweet.
ALL OUR HEROES ARE WHORES

EXTERMINATE THE BRUTES

ACTION ALWAYS OUTWEIGHS WORDS

PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY IS NECESSARY
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#8
Good grief...the stories I could tell about animals are probably endless!  Dogs, cows, other livestock, cats, birds, you name it, just endless!

Here's a short one about cows...

People think cows are stupid, but they're a lot smarter than people give them credit for.  One of our breed cows is a Beltie-Angus cross (one of our best momma cows).  Unlike most of our animals this one has an actual name, "Piper".  Well, Piper is what we call a "jumper"; if she gets in something conjured up in that head of hers, she starts looking for an escape route, and this escape route usually involves jumping.  Now, most people also don't think cows can jump, but let me tell you, they very much can jump!  And, they can jump a heck of a lot higher than most people think too!  Piper probably weighs around 1,700 lbs, but she's Michael Jordan when it comes to jumping.  In fact, that cow can jump a hell of a lot higher than I can, that's for sure.  Without going into a lot of detail here, cows get labeled by their behavioral characteristics so we know what to expect when we have to handle them, and so we can communicate these traits to others quickly.  Once you learn the behavior of an animal, you also have to learn the signs which lead up to that behavior.  In Piper's case, we know when this cow is getting ready to jump because she'll start sticking her nose up in the air and craning her neck like she's sizing up various barriers like fences and corral panels to figure out which one she can clear (and yes, Piper can jump over a 5 FOOT fence!!!  Easily, I might add!).  Okay, so now you understand some background; now onward with the story.

We do most of our own Vet work, but every now and then we have to get the large animal Vet out here to deal with an issue.  Probably because of something which happened when she was a calf, Piper does NOT like the vet!  (understatement of the week).  However, Piper is as calm as a trusting old dog when we do vet work, but not when the actual Vet shows up.  How she knows the difference is beyond me, but she straight-up does know the difference.  So the minute the Vet shows up in her truck, Piper's nose goes up in the air, and I mean the very second that the Vet drives up!  As a matter of fact, Piper can tell the Vet truck coming down our road even (and cows have notoriously bad eyesight), so it's either smell or sound, but she knows!  Oh boy, does she ever know!

So one day we've got the Vet coming out to doctor a momma cow who's having nursing issues, and the Vet wants to check all the momma cows just to make sure whatever is wrong with the one momma isn't contagious.  This means Piper too.  So we get all the momma cows penned up, and the plan is to run them through the crowding tub, alley and chute complex one at a time, where the Vet will check each one for milk quality and quantity, and infection.  We usually pen the cows up early so they settle down before we do anything with them, and that's what we had done on the day in question.

The Vet pulls up in her truck, and she hasn't even put her truck in "Park" yet before Piper's nose is up in the air.  She looks like a flipping periscope with her nose stuck up in the air like that.  By the time the Vet is out of her truck, Piper is in full-on "Eject!"-mode. 

To make a long story short(er), she did try to jump the fence that day, but because of where she started her leap from she only made it halfway over the 5 foot steel corral panel, landing on top of it and crushing it (like an aluminum can).  The aftermath is a whole other story, but everyone was fine in the end.

And that's the story of the cow with some kinda' ESP about the Vet.
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#9
(03-30-2022, 08:19 PM)NightskyeB4Dawn Wrote: My Tamar, a three year old, soon to be four years old, is mouthy, like her father Maxx. She is a diva and can be very demanding, towards my Mother. She will occasionally try to pull that crap with me, but she responds well to the "Look".

When she went into my mother's room and demanded she follow her, I ignored her, because she does this when she wants Mother and me in the same room. She is weird like that sometimes. She is not happy until she has the both of us in the same room, then she is as happy as a pig in feces.

Today Mother wasn't giving in to her, so she came to me whining. I asked her what she wanted and she led me to Mother's room. Of course, I thought she just wanted us in the same room, and she wanted me to be the one that changed rooms this time.

I told her to go pound sand, and was walking by to the living room, when she stopped, looked at me like I was crazy, and went into the kitchen. Now that is a no no. When I went into the kitchen to chastise her, she ran onto the porch and stood by her feeding bowl. I reminder her that it was not 3pm, their regular feeding time, so she still had 30 minutes to wait. She was not having it. She gave me plenty of mouth. Much more than usual. Then I noticed the others were waiting to be fed.

It hit me like a ton of bricks! Today is Wednesday. I always feed them a half hour earlier on Wednesdays, because I serve at the church, and I want to make sure they had plenty of time to get out, burn up some energy, and do their business before they are left alone in the house.

Looking at them standing there, waiting, I got the creepy feeling that I was looking at the offspring of Einstein. The dog in the Dean Koontz novel, "The Watchers".

They have done some pretty smart things in the past but I never really thought much about it. They are all purebred registered Siberian Huskies, and they are pretty smart dogs as the breed goes, but they have got my guard up now. Being able to tell time is very common, I am just not so sure about being able to tell the days of the week, and being able to tell time.

From now on out, I am going to be the watcher.


Watchers is a 1987 suspense novel by American author Dean Koontz. Along with Strangers, Lightning, and Midnight, Watchers is credited with establishing Koontz's status as a best-selling author.[1]

Quote:Einstein
A genetically altered golden retriever, created in a top-secret government laboratory, that has acquired a level of intelligence rivaling that of some human beings. Forms a close relationship with Travis and Nora.

Watchers (novel)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Watchers_(novel)

Forgot to post this awhile ago, found it when I was closing tabs. Loosely based on Koontz's book.
It's the full movie and a warning it's  pretty crappy. But that didn't stop Corman from making WatchersII, WatchersIII, and Watchers Reborn



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#10
(03-30-2022, 08:19 PM)NightskyeB4Dawn Wrote: My Tamar, a three year old, soon to be four years old, is mouthy, like her father Maxx. She is a diva and can be very demanding, towards my Mother. She will occasionally try to pull that crap with me, but she responds well to the "Look".

When she went into my mother's room and demanded she follow her, I ignored her, because she does this when she wants Mother and me in the same room. She is weird like that sometimes. She is not happy until she has the both of us in the same room, then she is as happy as a pig in feces.

Today Mother wasn't giving in to her, so she came to me whining. I asked her what she wanted and she led me to Mother's room. Of course, I thought she just wanted us in the same room, and she wanted me to be the one that changed rooms this time.

I told her to go pound sand, and was walking by to the living room, when she stopped, looked at me like I was crazy, and went into the kitchen. Now that is a no no. When I went into the kitchen to chastise her, she ran onto the porch and stood by her feeding bowl. I reminder her that it was not 3pm, their regular feeding time, so she still had 30 minutes to wait. She was not having it. She gave me plenty of mouth. Much more than usual. Then I noticed the others were waiting to be fed.

It hit me like a ton of bricks! Today is Wednesday. I always feed them a half hour earlier on Wednesdays, because I serve at the church, and I want to make sure they had plenty of time to get out, burn up some energy, and do their business before they are left alone in the house.

Looking at them standing there, waiting, I got the creepy feeling that I was looking at the offspring of Einstein. The dog in the Dean Koontz novel, "The Watchers".

They have done some pretty smart things in the past but I never really thought much about it. They are all purebred registered Siberian Huskies, and they are pretty smart dogs as the breed goes, but they have got my guard up now. Being able to tell time is very common, I am just not so sure about being able to tell the days of the week, and being able to tell time.

From now on out, I am going to be the watcher.


Watchers is a 1987 suspense novel by American author Dean Koontz. Along with Strangers, Lightning, and Midnight, Watchers is credited with establishing Koontz's status as a best-selling author.[1]

Quote:Einstein
A genetically altered golden retriever, created in a top-secret government laboratory, that has acquired a level of intelligence rivaling that of some human beings. Forms a close relationship with Travis and Nora.

Watchers (novel)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Watchers_(novel)

Back when I had the farm every single day, without fail, as I entered the living room to sit in the peace and quiet of the morning with my coffee (I sat in the dark so I could see out over the fields) there were 200 chickens out the back sliding glass door and a couple hundred head of cattle on their side of the fence all staring me down as I drank my morning coffee, looking in at me accusingly like I had my priorities all screwed up to be drinking coffee before feeding them! 

Hahaha... They knew time and lined up waiting for me every day playing the staring me down game all just quiet as mice so not to disturb the morning's peace.

I've never noticed animals knowing days though, but I've always kept to the same schedule regardless of the day. I wouldn't put it past more intelligent animals to recognize and anticipate scheduling changes that are regular. They are often smarter than we give them credit for.
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#11
(03-30-2022, 10:45 PM)AmericanBuffalo Wrote: I have two cats. Peanut and Pippy. I got Peanut from a shelter on the way home from my wife's mothers funeral. My wife had been wanting a kitten for sometime so I thought stopping at the animal shelter would be a respite from the grief.  We got to the shelter and found several cats. Most were quiet and just curled in the cages. Peanut, she was strutting around the cage rubbing her face on the bars and meowing. She's an orange tabby was about 8 months old at the time. We took her out of the cage and she went right to my wife and my wife held her. Peanut meowed and rubbed against my wife's face. She was very affectionate. After a bit my wife handed her to me to hold while she went to fill out the papers for Peanut's adoption. Her name was Ashley at the shelter. My wife named her Peanut immediately after we adopted her.

We had Peanut for almost to years when a cat of my mothers had kittens and again my wife wanted one. This is how we got Pippy. Again my wife named her because Pippy has a squeaky meow. Also at this time my wife was close to bedridden with stage 4 metastatic breast cancer which migrated into her ribs, hip and her T-10 vertebrae. So another cat would be good company for her during the day.

Peanut was with us for about a year before the cancer in my wife reasserted itself and spread. So she was witness to the extreme change when my wife was confined to bed and had to use crutches to get around otherwise. I was working 10 hours a day so Peanut was good company and then Pippy later. Peanut would lay with her and snuggle with her at night. Pippy wasn't nearly as affectionate and took some time before she felt comfortable around my wife.

Okay now the creepy part. My wife passed away in August of 2020 at 52 years of age. I brought her home for hospice care in early July 2020 and she got 8 weeks to be surrounded by all who loved her. And she was well loved my Susan. Peanut was by her side all the time and Peanut seemed to know Sue's days were few.

I recently moved and I have been going through pictures, I have a number of pictures of my wife in a envelope on the counter in the kitchen. I heard some noises and went to the kitchen where I found Peanut had somehow gotten a picture from the envelope of my wife and I. She was licking the picture where my wife's face is and seemingly obsessed. I took the picture and put it in a drawer. But Peanut kept getting pictures out the envelope and licking my wife's face. I burst into tears when I realized she was missing my wife too!

That wasn't too long ago and I have purposely left out pictures of my wife and when Peanut finds them she licks my wife's face! Okay probably more endearing than creepy. It is weird though and sadly sweet.
Oh wow, Im having trouble seeing my keyboard.   Bless you and your kitties!
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#12
(03-30-2022, 11:32 PM)FlyingClayDisk Wrote: Here's a short one about cows...

Grew up on a farm.  We had cows.  One of 'em my mom named Freezer Bill.  I liked him.  Only pet cow I ever had. When I'd go out to feed 'em in the morning, I'd get a hug from Bill and Bill was treated to his own feed bucket. Bill's momma was Ol' Meany, but she'd let me get that hug from her calf.  Sweet Pie was an eccentric.  Kind'a like your Piper, only not a jumper (never had one of those BTW).  Meanie led the herd and Sweetie Pie was a follower.

Them cows didn't know what to make of the relationship me and Freezer Bill were working on.  The only person who had ever been able to walk amongst all the cows and lay a hand on 'em was my old man. One day, Sweetie Pie got between me and Bill.  She blocked me from getting my hug.  So I walked away from the barn and out the gate.  That was that.  Let 'em all go hungry.  When they came in from the grazing pasture, Sweetie Pie cut me off again, and they went hungry ... again.  Things went on like that for a couple of days.

Those couple of days later, I went into the barn and came out with Bill's bucket.  It wasn't the normal order of things.  The normal order was for me to come out with a bag of feed and dump half of it into one trough, half of it into another, go back and get another bag and dump that into a bunch of individual buckets all around the barnyard.  Bill knew his bucket though and broke through and chowed down. Them other cows understood fair and that they weren't gettin' treated fair.  We had one other steer named Al ... and Al had horns. We kept a weightlifting bar within reach of the barn door to fend that sucker off with.  He had an unpredictable streak in him like Sweetie Pie (who was his mother come to think of it).  Anyway, Bill got fed, Al got bashed in the head ... and things went on like this for a few more days.  Never did figure out why my old man didn't cull Al and leave him with the range cattle.

One morning I walked out into the barnyard, and those cows opened up a path between me and Bill.  I walked up to Bill, gave him a hug around his neck, and everyone got fed.  Every day, twice a day, rinse and repeat.  Those cows had learned.  Something ... I don't know what, but something.

I was also the only person Bill ever trusted.  I could climb up on him, crawl in between his legs, jump up on on his head, pull his tail ... nothing phased him. He stood still once for over an hour to let me clear out a bot fly infestation from his back (the coke bottle treatment). Seemed the bigger he got the gentler he became.  He never stepped on me maliciously like my horse would if you took your eyes off of her. Never mashed me against anything solid.  Never butted me hard even when we were rough housing.

The day they came to haul him off, my old man handed me a halter without a word. And, I lead Freezer Bill up into that cattle trailer. Though that day ended my childhood, it didn't have a hand shaping me into a man. Felt more like a trust had been broken ... a bond braided by the very hand of God Himself.  Surely my mom felt it.  Never ate at her table again until she was a grandma and then only a handful of obligatory times after that.

Never shared the details of this with anyone. Rarely even go back to memories of those last days there.  Why it cropped-up and got typed out by my fingers I don't even know.  Let's just forget about it again.
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#13
@AmericanBuffalo 
I am Sorry For Your Loss.
Once A Rogue, Always A Rogue!
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#14
(03-30-2022, 10:45 PM)AmericanBuffalo Wrote: I have two cats. Peanut and Pippy. I got Peanut from a shelter on the way home from my wife's mothers funeral. My wife had been wanting a kitten for sometime so I thought stopping at the animal shelter would be a respite from the grief.  We got to the shelter and found several cats. Most were quiet and just curled in the cages. Peanut, she was strutting around the cage rubbing her face on the bars and meowing. She's an orange tabby was about 8 months old at the time. We took her out of the cage and she went right to my wife and my wife held her. Peanut meowed and rubbed against my wife's face. She was very affectionate. After a bit my wife handed her to me to hold while she went to fill out the papers for Peanut's adoption. Her name was Ashley at the shelter. My wife named her Peanut immediately after we adopted her.

We had Peanut for almost to years when a cat of my mothers had kittens and again my wife wanted one. This is how we got Pippy. Again my wife named her because Pippy has a squeaky meow. Also at this time my wife was close to bedridden with stage 4 metastatic breast cancer which migrated into her ribs, hip and her T-10 vertebrae. So another cat would be good company for her during the day.

Peanut was with us for about a year before the cancer in my wife reasserted itself and spread. So she was witness to the extreme change when my wife was confined to bed and had to use crutches to get around otherwise. I was working 10 hours a day so Peanut was good company and then Pippy later. Peanut would lay with her and snuggle with her at night. Pippy wasn't nearly as affectionate and took some time before she felt comfortable around my wife.

Okay now the creepy part. My wife passed away in August of 2020 at 52 years of age. I brought her home for hospice care in early July 2020 and she got 8 weeks to be surrounded by all who loved her. And she was well loved my Susan. Peanut was by her side all the time and Peanut seemed to know Sue's days were few.

I recently moved and I have been going through pictures, I have a number of pictures of my wife in a envelope on the counter in the kitchen. I heard some noises and went to the kitchen where I found Peanut had somehow gotten a picture from the envelope of my wife and I. She was licking the picture where my wife's face is and seemingly obsessed. I took the picture and put it in a drawer. But Peanut kept getting pictures out the envelope and licking my wife's face. I burst into tears when I realized she was missing my wife too!

That wasn't too long ago and I have purposely left out pictures of my wife and when Peanut finds them she licks my wife's face! Okay probably more endearing than creepy. It is weird though and sadly sweet.
So sorry about your sweet Susan. It sounds like her cats loved her very much. I have two Maine Coons and they are by my side day and night. Except when they nap.
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#15
(03-30-2022, 09:59 PM)Psychotic_Gemini Wrote: I just lost a cat back in mid November, that had been with me 20 years... she was 21. She was, or so she thought she was, my guardian. LMAO, more like my drill sargent. 

She kept me on schedule... screaming at me until I obeyed LOL. Shower time.. laundry day/time... oh... and bedtime LOL... try telling a demanding cat you aren't ready to go to bed yet. It doesn't work. When she was younger, she'd alert me if I wandered away from the kitchen leaving water running. She acted like she was my mother.. LOL

Cats can be just as intelligent as dogs. She didn't stop her screaming until I did as I was told... amazing, I miss her, but not the nagging

My Lazarus was 21 years ago when he left us. He was rescued after being buried alive during a demolition of a strip mall. The vet said he was 3 weeks old and feral. Well, he walked into my house and just took over. Three months later I got a Rhodesian Ridgeback puppy, Caleb. Lazarus laid down the rules of the house on his arrival, and they grew up together.

Lazarus had never been in the company of another cat, until I rescued Cinza, a chocolate Persian, about a year later. By then it was too late, he did not identify as a cat. He thought he was a dog, and Cinza and Caleb allowed him to live his fantasy.

He was the King of the pack. Here he is holding court.

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Here he is walking with Sandeeh in his last days.

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#16
(03-30-2022, 10:45 PM)AmericanBuffalo Wrote: I have two cats. Peanut and Pippy. I got Peanut from a shelter on the way home from my wife's mothers funeral. My wife had been wanting a kitten for sometime so I thought stopping at the animal shelter would be a respite from the grief.  We got to the shelter and found several cats. Most were quiet and just curled in the cages. Peanut, she was strutting around the cage rubbing her face on the bars and meowing. She's an orange tabby was about 8 months old at the time. We took her out of the cage and she went right to my wife and my wife held her. Peanut meowed and rubbed against my wife's face. She was very affectionate. After a bit my wife handed her to me to hold while she went to fill out the papers for Peanut's adoption. Her name was Ashley at the shelter. My wife named her Peanut immediately after we adopted her.

We had Peanut for almost to years when a cat of my mothers had kittens and again my wife wanted one. This is how we got Pippy. Again my wife named her because Pippy has a squeaky meow. Also at this time my wife was close to bedridden with stage 4 metastatic breast cancer which migrated into her ribs, hip and her T-10 vertebrae. So another cat would be good company for her during the day.

Peanut was with us for about a year before the cancer in my wife reasserted itself and spread. So she was witness to the extreme change when my wife was confined to bed and had to use crutches to get around otherwise. I was working 10 hours a day so Peanut was good company and then Pippy later. Peanut would lay with her and snuggle with her at night. Pippy wasn't nearly as affectionate and took some time before she felt comfortable around my wife.

Okay now the creepy part. My wife passed away in August of 2020 at 52 years of age. I brought her home for hospice care in early July 2020 and she got 8 weeks to be surrounded by all who loved her. And she was well loved my Susan. Peanut was by her side all the time and Peanut seemed to know Sue's days were few.

I recently moved and I have been going through pictures, I have a number of pictures of my wife in a envelope on the counter in the kitchen. I heard some noises and went to the kitchen where I found Peanut had somehow gotten a picture from the envelope of my wife and I. She was licking the picture where my wife's face is and seemingly obsessed. I took the picture and put it in a drawer. But Peanut kept getting pictures out the envelope and licking my wife's face. I burst into tears when I realized she was missing my wife too!

That wasn't too long ago and I have purposely left out pictures of my wife and when Peanut finds them she licks my wife's face! Okay probably more endearing than creepy. It is weird though and sadly sweet.

They mourn and grieve very much like we do. Sometimes maybe a little more.

I got Caleb, my Rhodesian Ridgeback a mate, Nia. Caleb lived to be 20 years old. I think him and Lazarus were having a Mexican standoff about who was going to go first. Caleb passed on when he was 20. Lazarus went over a year later. Lazarus was 21, but well heading toward 22 before he past.

Nia was seventeen when Caleb left us. She past on about eight months later, and I swear it was from a broken heart. I had never seen an animal grieve as intensely as Nia. Every time she went outside, she just kept going in circles around the house looking for Caleb. She whined, and laid around listless and disinterested in anything. We got two more dogs and she showed absolutely no interest in them at all. Lazarus did all he could to cheer her up. He washed her face. He would lie beside her. He would walk with her. He stayed by her side, but she just kept deteriorating until she just mourned herself to death.

They love just like we do. I think they can be more loyal and loving than some people.

So sorry about your wife.
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#17
(03-30-2022, 11:32 PM)FlyingClayDisk Wrote: Good grief...the stories I could tell about animals are probably endless!  Dogs, cows, other livestock, cats, birds, you name it, just endless!

Here's a short one about cows...

People think cows are stupid, but they're a lot smarter than people give them credit for.  One of our breed cows is a Beltie-Angus cross (one of our best momma cows).  Unlike most of our animals this one has an actual name, "Piper".  Well, Piper is what we call a "jumper"; if she gets in something conjured up in that head of hers, she starts looking for an escape route, and this escape route usually involves jumping.  Now, most people also don't think cows can jump, but let me tell you, they very much can jump!  And, they can jump a heck of a lot higher than most people think too!  Piper probably weighs around 1,700 lbs, but she's Michael Jordan when it comes to jumping.  In fact, that cow can jump a hell of a lot higher than I can, that's for sure.  Without going into a lot of detail here, cows get labeled by their behavioral characteristics so we know what to expect when we have to handle them, and so we can communicate these traits to others quickly.  Once you learn the behavior of an animal, you also have to learn the signs which lead up to that behavior.  In Piper's case, we know when this cow is getting ready to jump because she'll start sticking her nose up in the air and craning her neck like she's sizing up various barriers like fences and corral panels to figure out which one she can clear (and yes, Piper can jump over a 5 FOOT fence!!!  Easily, I might add!).  Okay, so now you understand some background; now onward with the story.

We do most of our own Vet work, but every now and then we have to get the large animal Vet out here to deal with an issue.  Probably because of something which happened when she was a calf, Piper does NOT like the vet!  (understatement of the week).  However, Piper is as calm as a trusting old dog when we do vet work, but not when the actual Vet shows up.  How she knows the difference is beyond me, but she straight-up does know the difference.  So the minute the Vet shows up in her truck, Piper's nose goes up in the air, and I mean the very second that the Vet drives up!  As a matter of fact, Piper can tell the Vet truck coming down our road even (and cows have notoriously bad eyesight), so it's either smell or sound, but she knows!  Oh boy, does she ever know!

So one day we've got the Vet coming out to doctor a momma cow who's having nursing issues, and the Vet wants to check all the momma cows just to make sure whatever is wrong with the one momma isn't contagious.  This means Piper too.  So we get all the momma cows penned up, and the plan is to run them through the crowding tub, alley and chute complex one at a time, where the Vet will check each one for milk quality and quantity, and infection.  We usually pen the cows up early so they settle down before we do anything with them, and that's what we had done on the day in question.

The Vet pulls up in her truck, and she hasn't even put her truck in "Park" yet before Piper's nose is up in the air.  She looks like a flipping periscope with her nose stuck up in the air like that.  By the time the Vet is out of her truck, Piper is in full-on "Eject!"-mode. 

To make a long story short(er), she did try to jump the fence that day, but because of where she started her leap from she only made it halfway over the 5 foot steel corral panel, landing on top of it and crushing it (like an aluminum can).  The aftermath is a whole other story, but everyone was fine in the end.

And that's the story of the cow with some kinda' ESP about the Vet.

Piper sound like the kind of cow I would like to have around.

She would probably get along well with Charlie Brown.

Charlie Brown belongs to my neighbor up the street. For some reason Charlie Brown enjoys my grass over the other neighbors, whose yards he walks right past. He makes the one mile walk to my house whenever he chooses. We don't know how, but we think Charlie Brown is the reincarnation of Houdini, because my neighbor has spent a fortune in all kinds of fencing and deterrents, none of them has kept Charlie Brown from coming to my house, for very long.

Before my neighbor invested in some quality fencing, Charlie used to come with Donkey and the Two Amigos. After the fencing, Charlie Brown would come alone. The other three could not figure out how to get out. But I think you may have given us the secret. He was probably jumping the fence.



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#18
You know, I don't think it's always about telling time or what day of the week it is. I think that in some cases it's just a connection they make with their pet humans.

My Dear Old Dad went off to the army in 1951, drafted, and was gone just one month shy of two years for his enlistment term. He never came home on leave or anything, just saved all his leave up to get the hell out of Dodge as early as he could when his enlistment got short.

So one month before his term was up, he cashed in his leave so he could be home before he got his actual separation. The Army was amenable, because they were, at about that time in 1953, putting an end to the unit he was in, the 15th Constabulary Squadron, guarding the German border against the godless commie Russians.

On the day dad came home - he had to walk from a bus station, as we don't have taxi service out here in the boonies - he intended to surprise everyone by just showing up, so he didn't write to anyone to let them know. Phoning in was out of the question, as there were no phones in Boonieville at that time, so he walked a few miles, from Grantsville WV to Rockdale, WV.


Granny, his ma, was hanging laundry out, and observed a weird reaction in his dog, Old Bunk. So she went into the house and told Gramps that dad was coming home that day. Gramps says "now how would you know that, Old Woman? Ain't nobody heard shit from him." Gramps could be a bit plain spoken upon occasion. Just about any occasion. So Granny told him that Bunk had gone out and sat on the point, overlooking the road that morning, and had just sat there watching the road all day.

Gramps was unconvinced - he figured Granny was just wishfully thinking.

In the afternoon, An indistinct figure appeared trudging up the road. Indistinct to everyone but Bunk, that is. He bailed off that point like his ass was on fire and his head was catching, going for all he was worth towards that indistinct figure trudging on the road.

That was the day Pap came home from the Army, and no one had a clue he was coming but Bunk.

It couldn't have been the time, since Bunk had no idea what time he was coming home - he waited a little better than half a day, watching. It couldn't have been the day of the week, because, ditto. It couldn't have been an even two years ringing the bell for Bunk, because it was a month short of the two years. The only thing we've ever been able to figure was that connection they had, across space, across time. Psychic, maybe, but in any event a connection of some sort.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

I've had a lot of critters in my time, mostly dogs. I'm really a dog person, and it is fate laughing at me that we have wound up with cats now, and no mutts. I've mourned the end of a lot more dogs than will ever mourn my end. These cat's don't care - they'd eat my carcass if given that chance, I'm pretty sure. I'm just another resource to them.

If they can't get what they want out of me - and that is a frequent occurrence - they go bug Grace. Only time they ever give a shit about me is when I go run off some other cat trying to kill them, which has happened more than once. Happened just today, as a matter of fact - Tiny Tom was enjoying the great outdoors when I stepped out onto the deck. Tom came barreling past me, and a big fuzzy black Persian hot in his heels... until the Persian saw me. Maybe he understood I don't mind killing Iranians. Wouldn't be the first time. Whatever the reason, he did a hand-flip immediately upon seeing me, and got scarce in an opposite direction. So Tom came on in onto the enclosed porch where he lives while I was on guard duty.

Don't get me wrong - Tiny Tom showed his appreciation by crawling up in my lap and doing his rubbing and wood-rasp-tongue-licking thing, but all else being equal, he wouldn't think twice about eating my dead-assed carcass if he found me just laying around dead.

Tom's balls ain't dropped yet, however much he thinks they have. He ain't but maybe 10 months old, just showed the hell up here as a two week old kitten last July, similarly to the way Cammie just showed up half grown 5 years ago. I've not had him fixed in hopes that his balls will drop and he learns how to tear a new ass off the strange cats that show up here. No idea where he came from. There ain't no other cats around here colored like he is, and his ma never showed up or came around looking for him. Just one of those mysteries. He stayed outside the first few months he was here, and I just fed him out there, until it got too cold for that shit.

Matter of fact, as I was typing this, Cammie - the indoor cat - gave an alert. She has a habit of sitting in the windows and watching. So, while I was typing, she was sitting in the kitchen window growling like a bear at 2 AM. That generally means there is a cat out there that don't belong. My guess this evening is that it was black Persian. He's been hanging around trying to get a chance at Tom. So I snatched up my pistol and went to do battle. Because if he can't figure out where his turf really is - and that this ain't it -  I'll give him one square foot he can call his own, and no more. Posthumously.

But of course he heard the door open, and got gone.

Now, middle of the night gunshots don't mean much to me. Wouldn't be the first time I heard them. If it bugs the neighbors, they're welcome to come over and find out what it was about. If they take exception to having their cats shot, that ain't my problem - they should've kept them off my turf. Pretty sure I know where the Persian belongs, and also pretty sure I won't hear any shit if he simply vanished. One day I was out test firing Betsy, my black poswder revolver, to check the loads for accuracy, and the "owner" of that cat was walking on the bridge, and the only comment I got from him was "did you get him?" He ain't gonna care if old Iran simply disappears one dark night.

There is a stray tabby that has taken up residence under my house, same deal - ain't nobody gonna care if he vanishes. One thing neither of those cats  is gonna do is harass the cats that are here under my protection, the cats that actually belong here.

I don't give a crap about cats, any more than they give a crap about me. BUT - if they're under my protection, they get the same as anyone else under it.  Cats are not like dogs. Dogs bond with you. Cats tolerate you, barely.

----------------------------------------------------------

The last dog I had was a Mountain Cur, named Blackie. He was the dumbassed dog that tangled with a bear that I have mentioned in other posts. I got Blackie from a Brazilian couple - she was a Venezuelan that I worked with - and he was a pretty smart dog, to be such a dumbass. I think he was probably just stubborn. Anyhow, when we first moved in here, my sister still lived in the house,and she had an outdoor cat named Shadow, Coincidentally, a black Persian.

Blackie could not leave that cat be. Chased it all over the place.

So one day I went out on the deck and sat down on the steps. Blackie came up to me, expecting to get his rears scrubbed. I took his head between my hands and looked him in the eyes, and said "leave that cat be, he lives here, same as you do now, so leave him alone".

Blackie, from that day forward, never chased Shadow again, and adopted a live and let live attitude until the day he disappeared into the woods.

.
Diogenes was eating bread and lentils for supper. He was seen by the philosopher Aristippus, who lived comfortably by flattering the king.

Said Aristippus, ‘If you would learn to be subservient to the king you would not have to live on lentils.’ Said Diogenes, ‘Learn to live on lentils and you will not have to be subservient to the king.’


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#19
(03-30-2022, 10:45 PM)AmericanBuffalo Wrote: I have two cats. Peanut and Pippy. I got Peanut from a shelter on the way home from my wife's mothers funeral. My wife had been wanting a kitten for sometime so I thought stopping at the animal shelter would be a respite from the grief.  We got to the shelter and found several cats. Most were quiet and just curled in the cages. Peanut, she was strutting around the cage rubbing her face on the bars and meowing. She's an orange tabby was about 8 months old at the time. We took her out of the cage and she went right to my wife and my wife held her. Peanut meowed and rubbed against my wife's face. She was very affectionate. After a bit my wife handed her to me to hold while she went to fill out the papers for Peanut's adoption. Her name was Ashley at the shelter. My wife named her Peanut immediately after we adopted her.

We had Peanut for almost to years when a cat of my mothers had kittens and again my wife wanted one. This is how we got Pippy. Again my wife named her because Pippy has a squeaky meow. Also at this time my wife was close to bedridden with stage 4 metastatic breast cancer which migrated into her ribs, hip and her T-10 vertebrae. So another cat would be good company for her during the day.

Peanut was with us for about a year before the cancer in my wife reasserted itself and spread. So she was witness to the extreme change when my wife was confined to bed and had to use crutches to get around otherwise. I was working 10 hours a day so Peanut was good company and then Pippy later. Peanut would lay with her and snuggle with her at night. Pippy wasn't nearly as affectionate and took some time before she felt comfortable around my wife.

Okay now the creepy part. My wife passed away in August of 2020 at 52 years of age. I brought her home for hospice care in early July 2020 and she got 8 weeks to be surrounded by all who loved her. And she was well loved my Susan. Peanut was by her side all the time and Peanut seemed to know Sue's days were few.

I recently moved and I have been going through pictures, I have a number of pictures of my wife in a envelope on the counter in the kitchen. I heard some noises and went to the kitchen where I found Peanut had somehow gotten a picture from the envelope of my wife and I. She was licking the picture where my wife's face is and seemingly obsessed. I took the picture and put it in a drawer. But Peanut kept getting pictures out the envelope and licking my wife's face. I burst into tears when I realized she was missing my wife too!

That wasn't too long ago and I have purposely left out pictures of my wife and when Peanut finds them she licks my wife's face! Okay probably more endearing than creepy. It is weird though and sadly sweet.

I'm sorry for your loss. My heart goes out to you ❤️
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#20
(03-31-2022, 01:16 AM)Grace Wrote: Back when I had the farm every single day, without fail, as I entered the living room to sit in the peace and quiet of the morning with my coffee (I sat in the dark so I could see out over the fields) there were 200 chickens out the back sliding glass door and a couple hundred head of cattle on their side of the fence all staring me down as I drank my morning coffee, looking in at me accusingly like I had my priorities all screwed up to be drinking coffee before feeding them! 

Hahaha... They knew time and lined up waiting for me every day playing the staring me down game all just quiet as mice so not to disturb the morning's peace.

I've never noticed animals knowing days though, but I've always kept to the same schedule regardless of the day. I wouldn't put it past more intelligent animals to recognize and anticipate scheduling changes that are regular. They are often smarter than we give them credit for.

Oh yes they are too!  (i.e. smarter than people think).  It's one of the reasons I absolutely loathe daylight savings time!  We can only adjust our own schedules so much, but the animal's schedule doesn't change.  So, we can feed them earlier, but we can't necessarily feed them later.

And yes, they do know what time it is.  LOL!  If I'm late going to feed, they'll all walk all the way across the pasture to where they can see into the big window of the house and start bawlin' anyone in the vicinity out, especially me!  I mean, it's not like you can't hear them anyway, right?  Bunch of racket going on outside.  But no, they have to get where they know you can see them too!

We've got two cattle dogs (an ACD and an Aussie Shepard), and up until recently my beloved Lab, Shelby.  The cows do NOT like the cattle dogs (for obvious reasons), but they LOVED Shelby.  For some reason, they thought she was one of them.  All three dogs could be outside and Shelby could go walk right into the corrals with them and walk through them, under them, it didn't matter.  They always made sure to not step on Shelby, or lay down on her, and it was not uncommon to look out and see Shelby out in the pasture napping with the cows...and even babysitting the calves (which is very unusual).  The cows trusted her that much.  The other two...NO WAY!  Those two show up and they are all on 100% ALERT!  Of course, those two are pretty smart around the animals, and they know it.  The ACD is a 'heeler' and the shepard is a 'herder', so one works from the rear, and the other from the front.

Anyway, when it was feeding time the cows would all start bawling if Shelby showed up.  Shelby would come all the way back to the house (about a half mile) and then act like we needed to go do something (kinda' like the "Timmy fell down into the well", kinda thing).  She'd keep pestering us and trying to lead us up to the corrals so we'd go feed the cows.  And it was ULTRA-frustrating to watch all this magic happen an hour earlier, or later, because some idiot in government thought it was such a bright idea to change the clocks around twice a year!!  The animals don't know, they don't understand that...and it makes me want to go kick some politician dead-square in the ass!  Usually goes on for a week or better every single time they switch the clocks.
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