Watch Out, Dr. Doolittle

“When you roll up your newspaper to swat the dog,” my friend Judy said, “he thinks you don’t like him anymore.”

“I DON’T like him anymore.”

My dog, Oscar had peed again on the  drapery panel. I was one step away from tying all of his belongs to the end of a stick and sending him on his way.

Judy laughed. “He thinks he’s contributing to the beauty of the room when he pees inside the house.”

“WHAT? That’s crazy!”

“He doesn’t see it that way. In his mind, he says,  Why did you hang those drapes there if you didn’t want me to pee on them? Who’s the crazy one here?”

The last time that I took the drape down to launder it, I noticed Oscar was walking funny, like he was holding his bladder. Luckily he relieved himself in the back yard before the drape completed the spin cycle.

Judy told me that she’d heard of a local woman who claimed to know what people’s pets were thinking.  “She calls herself an animal psychic. If you really want to know why Oscar likes to pee on your drapes, you should make an appointment with her.”

Right. I bet it wouldn’t cost anything, either.

“I already know what Oscar is thinking most of time,” I told Judy. Feed me, pet me, and Does anyone realize that the dog has not been fed? I’m starving to death, here!”

With my luck, I’d pay the psychic and astronomical fee and she would tell me something like this: “Your dog thinks he is adopted. He says he doesn’t look like anybody else in the family, well except Jack–a little. You always sleep at the head of his bed, even though he always gets there first.”

I suppose I could live the rest of my life never really knowing what Oscar is thinking.

My neighbor asked me to watch their dog while they were on vacation. I hesitated. Their dog, Rover was the kind that greeted you by knocking you to the floor, and  pushing his nose where he shouldn’t.

“He’ll stay in the backyard,” my neighbor said, “We’ll just need you to feed him and make sure he has water every day.”

I was perfectly capable of taking care of a dog that would stay in his own yard. No problem.

Rover was in my care for all of two hours when he went missing.

“Rover! Rover!” I called, walking up and  down the street. I could not figure out how that dog got out, and then I remembered something Rover’s mother had said earlier in the year.

“Rover can jump that fence, but he never does. He’s content to stay in the backyard.”

Great. I didn’t need a pet psychic to tell me what that dog was thinking: Why am I still here? My family has obviously moved away, and forgotten me. Since I can totally jump that fence, I’m going to go find them!

I got in my car and drove around; asking people if they’d seen a big dog. One woman who I’d asked, told me to check the animal shelter’s website. “If your dog was picked up,” she said, “his picture will be posted.”

I drove home and logged onto the website. I entered all of Rover’s particulars: Big dog, jumps fences. That got me about a dozen happy muzzles, but no Rover. “Why are they all smiling?” I wondered, “Obviously, they don’t think they know they’re lost! The one on the end isn’t even a dog!”

It seemed silly to be looking for a particular dog, when there were so many other lost pets. Wouldn’t one of the others work just as well?  “Pick one, throw it over the fence–call it a day,” I thought. Would my neighbors notice? I imagined how that might play out…

“Hey, Dawn! Where’s Rover?”

“Rover?”

“Yeah, our dog. You were watching him for us, remember?”

“Oh, right–There he is!” I’d  give a whistle, and he’d come running.

“That’s a cat.”

I’d feign surprise. “You’re kidding! But this Rover is much better than the old one. Did you notice that he didn’t knock me over when I called?”

Then the real Rover would appear and my neighbor would say that he traveled across thirteen states to find them.

“Wow, smart dog!” I’d say. “I didn’t know there were that many states between Nevada and Utah…

So, that probably wasn’t going to work.  I logged off the animal shelter’s website, then grabbed a cat from outside and took it to my neighbor’s backyard. Rover greeted me with a swift nose to the crotch…Rover?

“Rover!” I said, “You’re back!” But, he didn’t  act like he’d been lost.

I would learn later that my neighbor had asked another woman  to take Rover with her and her own dog when she went out on her daily run. I guess they forgot to tell me…

Sometimes I think I’m better at understanding what animals are thinking than my fellow human beings. For instance, I know exactly what’s going through Rover’s head right now–

“Hey, Lady! Can I eat your cat?”