October 6, 2017
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I took Angus to the vet this morning; Angus being the middle of our three cats, officially described as domestic short hair, but mostly Siamese in temperament. He knows what’s in store when the cat carrier appears and did not enter it willingly. Once the car was moving he commenced a deep-voiced mournful wail that he repeated frequently during the 15 minute trip.
Once we got to the vet office he was quiet, probably not wanting to draw the attention of the big dog that came in just after us. Once in the examining room he willingly walked out of the carrier and quietly submitted to the attentions of the nice lady vet, including the two needles she gave him for booster shots. Then he walked back into the carrier and was reasonably quiet on the way home. He knows the drill, just likes to let us know that this is not his idea of a fun way to start the day.
Two years ago, on the way home from the vet clinic with Angus, we decided to go on to Swanson to pick up our mail. As soon as we passed the O’Malley Road corner he began an agitated wail and only calmed down when we made the right turn on our return. How did he know?
Several weeks ago, my wife mentioned that she hadn’t seen any gophers this year and wondered if there none around our acreage. The next day Angus appeared at our front door with a freshly killed gopher in his mouth. He didn’t get any further that day. The following day he managed to smuggle another freshly killed gopher into the house, walked up to my wife seated in front of her computer, and dropped the gopher at her feet. The gift was not appreciated, but Angus had made his point – he knows more about what goes on around this acreage than we do.
Next my wife foolishly wondered if there were any mourning doves around this year, she hadn’t seen or heard any. A couple days later Angus walks across our front yard meowing loudly, or as loud as he could with his mouth full of a feathery creature. My wife dashed out, crying “No birds, Angus. No birds!” Angus dutifully opened his mouth and the mourning dove flew away. It appeared that he was more interested in show and tell than in a feather sandwich.
How did he know what she was talking about? Or are these all total coincidences?