Talk to the Animals

My neighbor, Gordon, is a real down-to-earth guy. He has two bearded collies that are simply adorable, clever, and fun. He keeps them busy with agility training, and it keeps him on the go, too.

This weekend, we had a rummage sale. It was an opportunity for all the neighbors we never see during the wintertime to come over and visit for a while. Gordon stopped in with both his collies, Molly and Annie, in tow. He told us his daughter had been in town over Father's Day weekend, and as part of the visit his wife had arranged for a consultation with an animal communicator. He hadn't expected much, but thought it might be fun -- what he didn't expect was to come away wishing he had prepared better for the session, because he has questions he wishes he had asked!

Okay, you can think what you want ... but Gordon was most amazed when the animal communicator asked Molly and Annie if there was anything they wanted him to know ... and they responded that they really missed the chew treats he used to give them. Now -- NO ONE knew Gordon had stopped giving them the rawhide treats three weeks prior to this session ... not the wife, not the daughter, and certainly not the animal communicator. Only Gordon, Annie, and Molly knew!

Another thing Gordon wondered about was how Molly and Annie felt about the little cockapoo his wife had just gotten. The bearded collies' answer? They don't really see the little dog very often, so it's okay. What? Well, Gordon and his wife life on opposite sides of town, and when they do see each other, the dogs aren't always with them! Interesting.

Other things were communicated: Molly is older, and said she is having some pain in her left front "ankle" and her back. Gordon suspected this, from the way she moved after agility training ... but she wasn't showing any signs of it at the consultation. Annie, young and energetic, was asked how she liked agility training; she said she was having trouble with the "teeter" (like a teeter-totter on a playground) ... which Gordon says was the only thing they had a problem with that day at practice! Gordon asked what he could do to make it easier for her, and Annie said she'd like it if he would stay near her until she was off the teeter and feeling more confident. They tried it in their next practice session, and it worked like a charm! Annie also said she liked agility except when she does things wrong, and then she doesn't like doing it anymore because she really wants to please Gordon. Awwwww....

Okay, so where am I going with this?

Sometimes, like most pet owners, I wonder what my cats are thinking. When Mack was sick, I NEEDED to know why he wouldn't eat. I know the answer, once he was in the midst of liver failure, would have been that he just didn't feel well. But before that ... why did he stop eating?

Amy wants to know, so she can feel better ... she doesn't want the answer to be, "because of the little cat" that Amy brought home. That's what WE think was the problem. Along with losing our 16-year-old dog, Cinnamon. And the fact that mom and dad went away for a week and some of our pet-care plans fell through. Not enough to have a dramatic impact, under normal circumstances. But the combination of factors, we're thinking, might have been the reason.

Why does it matter?

Our week-long vacation starts Sunday.

I was feeling desperate to have one of these animal communication consultations, so I could tell Mack that we'll be gone -- that *I* will be gone -- for a while, but that I need him to be okay ... I need him to keep eating.

The animal communicator website says we are all born with the ability to communicate telepathically. There are classes to help us enhance our abilities.

Well, I thought, maybe I should just TELL him myself.

Mack was in the other room, in my line of sight, grooming himself, when I had this thought. I looked intently at him, and thought, "Mack, I NEED YOU TO KNOW ..." Mack stopped his grooming and looked up at me, staring straight into my eyes. I continued, "We're going away for a while, but we'll be back. I NEED you to keep eating!"

He continued to stare at me for about 30 seconds. Then he went back to grooming himself, as if to say, "yeah, yeah, yeah. stop worrying."

Then he curled up and rested his chin on the side of the carpeted nest.

Maybe, just maybe, we had a moment of cross-species communication?

Long overdue - Mack update

Last night I woke up to the touch of something soft and warm very lightly pressing on my eyebrow. My hand discovered that it was Mack's paw -- he was stretching in his sleep, curled up in the space above my pillow.

Sometimes, I feel as if he's just reaching out for the reassurance that I'm there.

Sometimes, I think he doesn't consider me a person at all, but sees me as a fellow feline. This was reinforced recently when I read a tip from CatAge.com that said cats don't meow to each other -- only to humans. My cats are singularly silent, most days. Why should they meow, when we're the same species?

Ah, but which species do they think we are?

I've come to the conclusion that they think THEY are people, not that I'm a cat. It explains why they think they belong at the table when we're having a meal, and why Mack believes breakfast (and dinner) in bed is the way things ought to be.

Really.

I can put the dish of canned food on the FLOOR in our bedroom, to keep it away from the other two cats ... but he will often ignore it, and wait for me to serve the same dish ON the bed, instead. (Mack is still the only one who gets canned food, since Reggie and Lucky don't NEED more calories or more reasons to be obnoxious.)

I try not to indulge this eccentricity, but when the food has been sitting, untouched, for hours, there are times I will lift it to the bed, just to see ... yes, there he goes ... that's what he was waiting for.

Other times, simply conceding the bed is not enough to make up for my neglecting protocol. Sometimes, he won't touch it unless I lift the bowl to within an inch of his face, at which time he will bend ever so slightly and begin nibbling daintily, as if to communicate that he does, after all, forgive me for expecting him to eat on the floor.

There are other residual behaviors that Mack displays, and I'm not sure when they will fade. At times, all I have to do is hold him and cuddle him for 30 seconds, giving him my undivided attention and love ... and when I put him down, suddenly, he'll walk over to the food dish and dig in.

Certainly the 4:30 a.m. expectation that if he paws the hollow-core door (exceedingly loud at 4:30 a.m.!), someone (me) will get up and put food in the dish and coax him to eat. THAT has not happened for at least a month, so I'm not sure WHY he still hopes it will!

In fact, John has adopted a new behavior of his own, in response to Mack's early-morning demands for attention. He keeps his slippers by the bed, not to slip onto his feet when he gets up -- but to fire at the door when Mack is particularly insistent about early-morning in-and-out and in-and-out of the bedroom routine. (We hate to ignore his request to leave the bedroom, since we don't have a litter box in there anymore!) Don't worry ... John only throws the slipper when Mack is OUTSIDE the door, and only after he has gone in and out, in and out at least a couple of times.

The long and the short of it is that Mack is fine -- a bit more eccentric than before he took ill, and even more cuddly and loving. Our biggest worry now is what will happen when we go away to summer camp in early July. We're hoping our daughter might stay at our house to keep him company, just this year, so he doesn't decide to stop eating again.

Otherwise, I think it's safe to say -- we're home free.

His fur is even growing back!

The top two pictures below are of Mack today. The bottom two are of him right after the feeding tube was removed. I think you'll agree ... he's looking pretty good!