Izzie 2: Driving Miss Izzie

Pat wanted to walk for exercise. Unfortunately, she doesn’t know any ladies in the neighborhood that would like to go along with her and it gets pretty boring to walk by yourself. Thinking about it, she remembered when we lived in Texas; she sometimes shopped in the upscale community of Southlake, and often saw women pushing their dogs around in doggie strollers. It sounded like the perfect solution. She could take Izzie for a ride and they would both have a good time.

Dave Thomas
May 19, 2012

 

Izzie 8: Mis-Match

Over the years we had a couple of hummingbird feeders but hadn’t had much luck at attracting the birds. One of the many nice things about retirement is that you have time to try things for a second time if you had no success with them earlier. We had seen some hummingbirds checking out the flowers and bushes in our back yard. Pat was intrigued by them and decided to a buy a feeder and try it again. She went to Home Depot and looked at the units they had on display and asked questions of a lady working there. She received what we both thought was good and thoughtful advice. This lady suggested that Pat buy a feeder with a rim or perch around it so the hummingbirds could light and rest as they got their nectar. “After all”, she said, “the little birds get hot and tired, too”.

Pat bought a feeder and mixed up her first batch of nectar. Meanwhile, I found a couple of interesting web sites on the Internet and learned a few things about caring for the feeders, attracting birds, and other useful items. Pat hung up the feeder and we were in business.

The first three or four days were kind of slow. I guess it took the birds a little time to spot the feeder and spread the word. We had been sitting out on the patio a couple hours a day with our cat, Isabella, to keep her company. Izzie is an indoor cat and has never been outside on her own. To give her some outside time, which she really loves, we put a harness and leash on her and stay with her. We used to stake her out for 30 minutes to an hour at a time and check on her every 10 or 15 minutes to make sure she was okay and hadn’t tangled herself up. However, one day, Pat stepped out on the patio just as a big hawk came swooping over the fence to grab Izzie. If Pat hadn’t screamed and waved her arms we would be without a cat, now.

The feeder was attracting more visits each day. We found out quickly just how territorial and ornery these little birds are. If two of them show up at the same time, there is no sharing. Each tries to intimidate the other with aggressive moves and bluffing.

One morning Pat was working in the kitchen and heard a commotion at the patio door. Her view of the door was partially blocked by the cabinet so she moved over a little to see what was going on. There was Izzie standing on her hind legs and stretched out to full height with her front paws resting on the screen. On the other side of the screen and hovering nose-to-nose with Izzie was this cocky little humming bird. The point of this encounter seemed to be that the humming bird wanted to tease the cat. The little bird-brain had no idea that this cat dreamed of stalking birds and lizards and had actually backed down two dogs at once that thought they could invade her space. The bird was no piker either, showing no fear at all. He would buzz right up to Izzie’s nose and she would take a swing at him, striking the screen. I don’t know if the air currents generated by Izzie’s swing were pushing the bird back or if the bird’s extraordinary reflexes made it seem that way, but they seemed to be involved in a weird little boxing match. There was a lot of bobbing and weaving going on, with Izzie occasionally throwing an overhand right and the bird slipping it to perfection. They kept this going for a couple of minutes. It was a strange little dance performed by two strange little pugilists. When they got bored, they quit and went away. No harm, no foul, and nobody hurt!

Dave Thomas
September 16, 2014

 

Izzie-3 Problem Solving

9-Problem Solving

I have lived with cats all my life and enjoyed them. You feed them, water them, take care of them, and enjoy the affection you get from them. The problem though is that for most of your life you don’t have enough time to observe them. As a retired person, I’ve been learning things that I wish I had known all these years. Cats are thinkers but you have to quietly watch them for some time in order to pick up on the subtle things that are going on in their little heads.

When Izzie, the inside cat, and I first started going for walks, she checked out everything by smelling, looking, and listening and sometimes by touching with her paws and I’m certain that she committed every detail to memory. One event that convinced me of how observant she is and how she can asses a situation and solve a problem by breaking it down into step-by-step solutions is the “gate” story.

We walked across the backyard and made a right turn and went up the side of the house toward the front where the trash cans are kept. We got there and she stopped and sat back on her haunches. I noticed that she was staring at the top of the gate and continued to do so for a couple of minutes. It finally dawned on me that she was trying to figure out how to get over that gate. I knew that she understood the constraints of the leash and that she probably couldn’t make a direct frontal assault on the gate. After a bit, she looked to the left and saw the retaining wall. She walked over to it and stood on her hind legs and put her front feet on top of the wall. I saw her muscles flex as she pulled on it and tested it for stability and strength. When she was satisfied that it was okay she hopped up on top of it.

Next, she looked at the closest trash can and put her front paws on it. As before, she looked around carefully and then hopped onto the trash can lid. She took another look at the top of the gate from her new vantage point and evidently decided she could do better. She looked over at the adjoining trash can, extended her front legs and placed her paws on the cover. She looked around carefully and then gingerly stepped across to the second can. Now, she sat back on her haunches and again stared at the top of the gate. All this time I had been holding the leash and she knew well what her limits were. You could almost see the wheels turning in her little brain as she assessed the situation. Suddenly she stood up,  placed her front paws on the horizontal brace at the top of the gate and made a mighty leap. Fortunately, I was ready, and caught her in mid-air just as she cleared the top. She wasn’t trying to get away. She only wanted to see what was on the other side. She held on to the top of the gate and I held onto her as we stood there for a couple of minutes and watched the cars go by on the street.

It’s interesting to note that the next day, having memorized the procedure; she just walked right up to the retaining wall and made the series of jumps that carried her to the top of the gate. I was impressed by the way she sized up the problem, broke it down into manageable steps, executed her plan, and then remembered it the next day.

Dave Thomas
December 2, 2013

Ms. Rambo and the Fox

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Pat and I were sitting in the swing and talking about Ms. Rambo, a cat we had for several years. We have a lot of stories about her that we tell and re-tell and never get tired of.

The street we lived on was just a block long. It was a very steep hill ending at the top with a regular cul de sac type turn-around. We lived at the bottom of the hill and up at the top lived a family that had a white cat. Being all white, the cat stood out and you could spot her wherever she was in the neighborhood. One day the family moved out and just left the cat to fend for herself. We would see her up and down the block looking for food and taking care of herself. We heard stories from the neighbors of what a hunter she was and how independent and tough she was. We all felt sorry that she had been abandoned but she seemed to be surviving and doing okay.

The cat soon had a route established to cover the block in search of hand-outs. She was checking our back door so Pat started putting out food and water. Our house became a regular stop on the cat’s route and Pat enjoyed seeing her and always talked to her. This went on for a few months until the cat decided to change the game. It was raining one evening which is unusual for San Diego. I had just gone to bed and Pat was finishing up before she, too, headed upstairs. All of a sudden, Pat heard a squalling noise at the front door. It was that loud, eerie noise a cat makes when it has made a kill. Pat opened the door and there stood this wet cat with a rat in its mouth. The cat steps in and drops the rat at Pat’s feet and walks on into the living room. The rat is wounded but it jumps up and waddles off. Pat is yelling for me to get up and help catch the rat and she is checking to see what the cat is doing. The cat is calmly sitting in the middle of the living room and watching Pat go nuts and then watching me go nuts as I try to catch the rat. Fortunately, the rat is lame and I’m able to catch it and get rid of it. Pat and I look at the cat and talk about her and figure that she must have gotten tired of living in the rain and scrounging for food and trying to survive as a homeless person and decided to adopt us. She was smart enough to offer up the rat to pay her way in. 

After work the next evening we were trying to assess what we had. This cat was slim and wiry and built like a Siamese. When she vocalized a “kill”, it sounded like a Siamese. She was pure white but wasn’t an albino because her eyes were kind of a blue-green rather than pink. She’d been taking care of herself for months without the coyotes getting her so she was smart and tough. I tried to play with her and teased her and ended up with tooth and claw marks in my hand and arm so we understood that she would demand respect. Discussing what to name her, it was her fierce fighting ability and independence that caused us to think of the latest “tough guy” movie we had seen so we called her “Rambo”. Then, remembering she was a girl, we modified it to “Ms. Rambo”.

This little cat only weighed 7 or 8 pounds but she was extremely athletic. She liked to sleep on top of the refrigerator where nobody could bother her. Most of the time she would jump from the counter top but if there was anything in the way there she could jump from the floor! Pat had a big fruit bowl that she kept on top of the fridge and Rambo took it over for her naps. 

Ms. Rambo

One day we were afraid she might have a kidney infection. We couldn’t get in to see our regular Vet so we went to another. Once we were in the examining room we took her out of the carrier we had brought her in and placed her on the examining table. Pat and I were both petting her and talking to her so she was quiet. The Vet comes in and he’s a big dude, 6’3″ or 6’4″ tall. We explain the symptoms she’s displayed and the Vet says he will take her to the back and get a urine sample. Pat and I both volunteer to go with them. We tell him that she’s called Ms. Rambo for a reason and that other Vets put a muzzle and one of those straight jacket things on her when handling her. Well, the Vet draws himself up to his full height, looks down his nose at us and says “I think I can handle this little, tiny cat.” Pat and I look at each other and we’re both thinking “OK, Bud…we tried to warn you!” The Vet picked up Ms. Rambo and that’s when things got tough! She started screaming, biting, and clawing and the Vet looked like a man possessed. He and Rambo were everywhere. He finally got her tucked under one arm and went out the door with her. Pat and I about busted a gut, laughing, and were completely out of control for a while. Later, a technician brought Ms. Rambo back in and she was wearing a muzzle and one of those straight jackets and had a big towel wrapped around her, too. They finally got the message.

I had to tell you a little bit about Ms. Rambo so you could get the full flavor of this next incident.

I wasn’t home from work, yet. Pat was just getting there and as she rounded the corner, she saw several groups of neighbors standing out in front of their homes. They were looking up the hill, and talking excitedly to one another. We lived in the first house from the corner, at the bottom of the hill, so Pat pulled into our driveway and got out of the car. She yelled at our next door neighbors who were standing out on their drive and asked what was going on. They said that several neighbors had been out in their front yards doing yard work or doing things with their kids and they saw our cat, Ms. Rambo, coming down the hill. Apparently she had been hunting up at the top of the hill and was going from yard to yard as she returned to our house. A few minutes after seeing Rambo, they saw the  neighborhood fox coming down the hill and it seemed to be following Rambo’s scent. The neighbors all thought that would be the end of Ms. Rambo. Sure enough, all of a sudden there was a terrible commotion! There were cat screams, snarls, hisses, and growls. Then, it all changed to a kind of yelping noise and suddenly, here comes the fox up the middle of the street and he is running for his life! Now, everyone can see what is happening. Ms. Rambo is astride the fox’s back with claws dug in and is riding him like a jockey! Go, Rambo, go! The neighbors say it’s the funniest thing they have ever seen. That fox is running for his life and Ms. Rambo is raking him at every jump! This is how legends are born.

This was not Ms. Rambo’s only wild ride nor her last wild and crazy exploit! More later.

Dave Thomas
October 26, 2014

 

Izzie-5: Communicating

Izzie-5 Communicating

Communicating with a cat is much like communicating with a toddler. You have to keep it simple and say things they can understand based on what they have learned to this point. Short, simple words should be used and you should use the same word each time to describe an item or action in order to aid retention. The cat (or kid) will respond by doing something or doing nothing.

We all know that cats say “meow”. That’s the simplest thing they can do that we dumb humans can understand. Beyond that, it gets complicated and we have to really pay attention. I remember being told as a child that cats and other animals won’t look you in the eye because they think that if anything locks eyeballs with them it plans to eat them. I’ve found that it’s not true. Izzie looks me right in the eye to tell me stuff. For instance, if we are in the living room watching TV and Izzie is curled up on the floor she may decide to do something. She’ll get up and start walking across the floor. When she gets past the coffee table and there is a direct line of sight between us, she will stop and turn her head and stare me right in the eye. If I don’t notice her (or pretend not to notice her) she will face forward and resume walking to wherever she was going. However, if I get up and walk toward her there are two possibilities. If she stands still and continues to look up at me then I’m supposed to pick her up and give her a hug. But, if she resumes walking then I am supposed to follow her (see Izzie-7, Escort Service).

No response can actually be a response. A cat’s ears are always moving as it’s their nature to follow every sound. So, for instance, if Izzie and I are outside, and I say “Okay, Izzie, it’s time to go inside” and she just sits there, staring in the other direction, and her ears are perfectly still, I know she is making a conscious effort to make no response to my wish. If she wants to comply she gets up and heads for the door. I guess you could call this a binary response…she either jumps up or not.

Pat and Izzie play two games that Pat refers to as “Chase” and “Hide and Seek” and they can happen at any time during the day or evening. If Pat wants to play, she’ll signal Izzie by walking up to her and “growling” and stomping her feet and yelling “where’s that cat?” Izzie will jump to her feet and race across the room and down the hall with Pat running after her (see Izzie-6 and Izzie-6a, Chase and Hide and Seek and Games.) If Izzie wants to start a game she has several ways of signaling. To make noise, Izzie extends her claws and hooks them in the carpet. Then, she jerks her paw back and causes a popping noise. When she races down the hall, popping her claws at every step, it sounds like a herd of wild horses. Another way she’ll get your attention is to stand in one spot and pop her claws and then, all of a sudden, jump straight up in the air, do a 180 degree turn, and come down ready to be chased. If none of that stuff works, she’ll go pop her claws in the end of the couch because that’s forbidden and she knows that will gain some attention.

Of course purring is a major cat trait. Isabella purrs most of the time though if you manage to aggravate her, her ears go back until the color of them blends into the color of her head and then she is not only mad but looks weird too.

So far, we’ve got the meow, the look, no response, popping her claws, the run, the jump, purring, and ears back. Izzie and I are both still learning this communication thing. In a few months she may be reading at a 3rd grade level. I don’t know where I’ll be.

Dave Thomas
May 18, 2012

 

Izzie-7: Izzie’s Bad Dream

One of the nice things about being an old man is that you have more time to think about stuff. I’ve learned a lot of things about our world but more importantly about humans and animals. Today, I’m thinking about the animals.

I’ve always liked all animals but up to now, haven’t given much thought to their mental ability or feelings. I’ve learned so much by watching our cat, Isabella. I’ve read that cats have the mental abilities of a two to three year old child and I believe it. They can reason things out, remember the things that are important to them, remember the things that frighten them, express emotion, memorize words, and remember the things they should or should not do. Knowing of all these wonderful qualities, it still never crossed my mind that cats could dream.

Pat was out of town, visiting a friend, so it was just Isabella, the cat, and I. When I went to bed, Izzie curled up on the floor near the foot of the bed. In the middle of the night I was awakened by crying sound and couldn’t tell where it was coming from. I slid out of bed and into my wheel chair and rolled down to the foot of the bed. A night-light made it possible for me to see Izzie lying there. She was making a crying, whimpering noise as if she was terrified. I think we’ve all had those dreams where you are so scared you are paralyzed and can’t move and can’t yell for help. As I got closer, she continued to whimper so I reached down and picked her up. She awoke when I touched her and recognized me and buried her head against my chest. I stroked her head and back and talked to her and told her she was okay. This went on for several minutes until I finally felt her relax. When she felt safe and comfortable, she started squirming and I put her back on the floor. I was relieved to think that I had been able to calm her. It had never occurred to me that a cat could have bad dreams.

I wish that Izzie and I could converse so that I might explain the scary things to her. Also, she could clue me in on a lot of the things in her life that we are doing wrong. We really need to know more about what she prefers to eat. We spend a small fortune on food that she turns her nose up at and we throw away.

It probably won’t be long until some genius kid comes up with a computer program that will allow us to talk to our cats. You could probably record a few thousand videos and document the circumstances and activities surrounding them. Then, take the grunts and meows from the videos and run them through a spectrum analyzer and match the sounds that are alike to the cause and effect findings of the videos. Then, using the nuances of the cat talk, you could create algorithms and develop a program that would enable you to talk with your cat. I’m looking forward to it.

Dave Thomas
August 6, 2015

 

Izzie-6a: The Games

Two or three years ago I wrote some stories about our cat, Isabella, and mentioned that cats have the intelligence of a 2 or 3 year old child. Izzie had made up 2 games, “Chase” and “Hide and Seek”, back then, and she still enjoys playing both. Now, don’t be rolling your eyes. I know that pet owners are just like parents in that they think their “little one” is the cutest and smartest on the block. Don’t worry, this is not a challenge and I’m not trying to start a competition. I just want to share some of the things that Izzie comes up with because I think it’s interesting to see what a cat is capable of.

Games seem to take place at our house anytime between 6:00 AM and 10:00 PM. Whenever Izzie (or Pat) gets bored, we may have a game. Izzie might be lying on the living room floor and suddenly jump straight up, spin around 180 degrees in the air, and then take off running down the hall. That means that Pat is supposed to jump up and run after her. Izzie might just take off down the hall and leave us to figure out that its play time.

Sometimes, Pat kicks off the action. She’s good at it and gets Izzie’s attention right away. Picture a classy-looking 77 year old woman, down on her hands and knees and facing off with a cat. Their eyes are locked and she begins stalking by moving forward a few inches at a time. Izzie’s eyes are unwavering as her nemesis moves closer and closer. Pat closes the gap and gets to the place where one more move would make it possible to reach out and grab Izzie. Izzie is ready and when she detects the slightest motion she springs aside and goes thundering down the hall. The chase is on! Pat jumps up and whoops and goes charging after her, yelling “Get that cat! Get that cat!” I do my part by clapping my hands and yelling “Git ‘er! Git ‘er!” Izzie will wait just inside one of the bedroom doors and when Pat gets close she will come barreling out and race back the other way. Sometimes as she runs past Pat she will reach out and slap her ankle as if to say, “I’m too quick for you, sister!” It’s funny to think that when Izzie is outside she can walk across a lawn covered with dry leaves and never make a sound but when she is playing on the carpet in the house, she can stomp her feet and sound like a herd of wild horses. 

Izzie has also come up with a “safe haven” scheme when they are playing Chase. If she thinks Pat is getting too close and might catch her, she jumps in her litter box. She stands there in it, with her mouth open in what we believe to be a grin and is pretty proud of herself for getting to the “no touch” zone. Pat always honors it and turns around and goes back the other way.

When Izzie first takes off running, it’s not clear which game she is going to play. That’s determined when Pat runs after her and they get to the end of the hall. If Izzie is in plain sight and charges back in the opposite direction then they are playing “Chase”. If Izzie has decided to play “Hide and Seek” this time, then she will be hiding. Pat starts yelling “Where’s that cat? where’s that cat?” It’s obvious where she is, because she will be behind a door, a stuffed chair, or under a bed and in all cases, her long, silky tail will be hanging out. Pat will pretend she doesn’t see her and wander around the room asking “Where’s that cat?” If Izzie is ready to be “found”, sometimes she will let out a little, squeaky meow to announce her location. Most of the time, she lets Pat start walking back up the hall and dashes out and wraps her arms around Pat’s ankle. Then she runs to the living room and prances around with that little “grin” on her face and acts real proud about being so clever.

Izzie and her ways provide us with a lot of fun and laughter. Each day with her is a pleasure.

Dave Thomas
January 13, 2015

 

Izzie-6: Chase and Hide and Seek

Izzie-6 Chase and Hide and Seek

Pat and Izzie play two games that Pat refers to as “Chase” and “Hide and Seek” and they can happen at any time during the day or evening. If Pat wants to play, she’ll signal Izzie by walking up to her and “growling” and stomping her feet and yelling “where’s that cat?” Izzie will jump to her feet and race across the room and down the hall with Pat running after her. If Izzie wants to start a game she has several ways of signaling. To make noise, Izzie extends her claws and hooks them in the carpet. Then, she jerks her paw back and causes a popping noise. When she races down the hall, popping her claws at every step, it sounds like a herd of wild horses. Another way she’ll get your attention is to stand in one spot and pop her claws and then, all of a sudden, jump straight up in the air, do a 180 degree turn, and come down ready to be chased. If none of that works, she’ll go pop her claws in the end of the couch because that’s forbidden and she knows that will get some attention real quick.

The course for the races is from the living, down the hall to the bedrooms, back up the hall, into the kitchen, across the kitchen, and out into the living room. If I’m watching TV I have a great view of the whole spectacle. Izzie will take off down the hall with all the noise and speed she can muster while Pat races along behind her yelling “Where’s that cat? Where’s that Cat?” and stomps her feet to make as much noise as she can! When Izzie gets into the bedroom sh’ll stop snd wait. Then, as Pat gets to the door she’ll burst past her and reach out and swat her on the ankle as she goes by. Then Izzie will race on up the hall and be waiting in the middle of the living room for Pat. Izzie looks like a toddler at this point. She is all excited and bright –eyed and Pat and I would both swear she is laughing. She won the race and with that swat on the ankle, put something over on us!

Dave Thomas
July 18, 2012

 

 

Thanks For Dropping In!

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It was a rare thing for us to decide that we wanted a pet and then went out and acquired it. Usually, they were dumped on us or we rescued them or we did someone a favor by taking the pet they could no longer care for. The time period I’m thinking of, we were up to our ears in cats. We had a couple of cats and then two more were dumped on us and then they had kittens and through no fault of our own we had a herd of a dozen or more.

The problem came to a head one Saturday morning when we were both home. I’m sure that the kids remember this. We had already received our mail that morning but Pat had come up with something else she wanted to send off. It was no big deal as there was a mail box on the corner a half a block away. As Pat came out of the house and started down the sidewalk, the cats and kittens started falling in behind her. I was working in the yard and saw the whole thing. There goes Pat with 10 or 12 cats marching along behind her! She looked like the Pied Piper or a mother duck with all her little ducklings following along. That pretty much did it for me! It was time to thin the herd!

That afternoon we called some shelters in an effort to find homes for some of these kitties. Some of them were already at capacity so we knew that it was going to take some work to get these cats headed to good homes.

That evening we were all watching TV and started hearing a kitten cry. The cats were supposed to be in the garage so we couldn’t imagine where this baby was. We started looking around and the kids soon discovered that the crying was coming from the fireplace. Somehow, a kitten had gotten into our chimney. I sat down on the hearth and used one hand to open the flue while using the other hand to locate the kitten. There wasn’t much room there and I was afraid that opening the flue too fast wouldn’t give the kitten time to move safely out of the way. In just a few seconds, I had a little, soot covered, male kitten in my hand. Pat grabbed a towel and started cleaning him up. We were amazed to discover that the little guy had no injuries. Rather than falling to the bottom of the chimney he must have climbed down the inside. And, as Pat got him cleaned up, we realized that he wasn’t one of our kittens. Someone must have dumped him and in trying to find a home with food and companionship he followed his nose and ended up on our roof. We got him cleaned up and gave him some food and water and put him in the garage. The back door of the garage was open so the cats could go out in the back yard and do their business.

After we had gone to bed that night, we again heard a kitten crying. The kids jumped up and started looking for the source of the noise. They soon traced it to the hood above the range. This time, the little devil had gotten into the galvanized vent above the kitchen stove! I got up under the hood and removed the screen and fan motor assembly and got the kitten out of there. Pat cleaned him up while I put the range hood back together. Sure enough, it was the same cat. We figured he must be desperate for a home and family if he went to these lengths twice.

The next day, Pat was talking to Joan, our neighbor across the street. She told Joan about this handsome little boy cat who was trying so hard to find a home that he risked coming down our chimney and a ceiling vent. Joan said she would like to have a cat with that kind of determination and adopted him on the spot. It turned out to be a perfect match. The kitten grew up to be a fine-looking guy and was devoted to Joan and Woody from the beginning.

Dave Thomas
October 30, 2014

 

Izzie-4: Hey…It’s Water!

It’s hard to adapt to things and circumstances you have not witnessed before. Imagine the wonder of a native from the jungles of the Amazon being dropped off in the middle of one of our large cities. It would be overwhelming. Those same feelings must also apply to dogs, cats, and other animals when they are abruptly removed from their homes and placed in new surroundings. They must be terror-stricken and have no idea of what to do, what to eat, or how to react to the objects or circumstances they encounter.

Our kitty, Isabella, was given to us when she was five years old. She had been an “inside” cat all her life and had no idea of how to protect herself from traffic or coyotes or a myriad of other things she might meet up with. We could see that she was dying to get outside and experience the world so we bought a harness and a leash and started walking her outside.

We thought it was funny when we would bring Izzie in from the outdoors and as soon as the harness was off she would run for her litter box. She didn’t know that she could go potty outdoors! As I became more sensitive to these kinds of knowledge I began to realize how much she had to learn and that I had better get tuned in so that I could help her.

The lawn sprinklers go off at daybreak three times a week and always make a couple of puddles on the sidewalk. When we are out for our walks Izzie always walks right through them with no concern. The other morning we came upon a puddle and she stopped and stared at it. I thought perhaps she didn’t want to get her feet wet so I just waited for her to make up her mind. After looking at the water for a few seconds, she performed the classic “wipe on, wipe off” maneuver from the Karate Kid movie. She stirred the water with her right front paw and then did the same with her left. Then she lapped up a couple of drops of water and licked her lips. I guess everything was satisfactory because she then bent down and drank her fill. I realized that I had just witnessed an “aha” or “Eureka” moment. “The stuff in that puddle is the same as the stuff in my bowl in the house!” After getting her drink, she sat back on her haunches and licked her lips, then got up and walked through the puddle and has never again had a drink outside.

Dave Thomas
May 17, 2012