Homer caught a mouse one night last week. He didn't kill it. He just played with it. He did just about drown it in slobber. Homer is a 100+ pound dog. People think he looks real mean. But there he was, playing with this little bitty mouse. He left it in his bed when he went outside for the day. Cindy found it and picked it up by the tail and flushed it. When Homer came back in that night he looked all over for his little friend. Then he pouted cause he knew we had taken away. Crazy dog. Big mean looking dog. Wouldn't hurt a mouse.

pooh your post made me think of the below cartoon! I can just picture him looking around and being all sad. Poor guy.

Here is a link that might be useful: which way did he go?

Georgy doesn't do anything silly, really but Years ago I had an Irish Setter who would "bury" dog biscuits in the house. She would go in a corner, dig the "dirt" put her bone down in the imaginary hole and then take her nose and shove the imaginary dirt back. Their the bone would sit in the wide open, but she thought it was buried. Sometimes she would "bury it under a sofa cushion. At least then it was out of sight.

Keegan buried those rings that come around the tops of milk jugs in the couch. I'd forgotten that one! thanks

I had a bowl of walnuts in the shell sitting in the middle of the dining room table. I came home from work and my dog, Murray, had gotten the bowl off the table and took the walnuts to different places all over the house and hid them. I even found them between the mattress and box springs. Crazy dog!

Pooh, so good to see you posting!

Wonder who Homer learned his tricks from?

Sue

I have two cats. They have a division of labour set up. One cat ( he is pure white and his name is Powder - after ski Powder days) is in charge of asking for breakfast and dinner. He will meow and pace and rub and look at the empty place on the floor while the other cat just sits off to the side. When they get fed the other one comes running.

The other cat, Charlie, is in charge of meowing at the sliding glass doors to be let out. Powder just sits off to the side and waits for Charlie to arrange for the opening of the doors. Once they're open he will come running. They are only allowed on the decks and seem to never roam any further for some reason. Could have something to do with the raccoons, coyotes and skunks that roam the neighbourhood.

It's a system that seems to work for the two of them.

But robb333 - what is with that wanting to be pet but then run under the table or chair? That's what Charlie does. He will meow to be petted but then runs away and then yes, sticks his head out. And so, because I'm a sucker, I get down on the floor and rub his head and then he throws himself down for the belly rub.

Georgysmom, I watched my dd's dog do that one day--so fascinating! What an instinct "burying" must be.

Disclaimer - This happened in a very rural area in the 1960s. Yes, our dog roamed the countryside at will, but seldom traveled further than our property and the two neighboring farms. He visited one to swim and catch frogs in their pond; he visited the other to herd their cattle.

I would have paid more attention to the turtle had I thought he was in any danger --- but I was a child.

When I was young I had a beautiful black Lab/German Shepard mix...he was big happy goofball with a mad, rabid protective streak. My dear, sweet Rebel.

He adopted a friend, a box turtle. We called them terrapins, but they were the big, boxy, land turtles. He brought it home one evening in Spring and carried around with him nearly all summer long.

When he got in his bed on the back porch, he'd put the turtle in there with him. If he was in the back yard, he'd carry the turtle with him, set it down and leave it there while he went about his patrolling, hunting, and herding the neighbors cows (not milk cows) into their barn. When he came back to our place he'd find the turtle and bring it to the house. If he came inside the house we had to make him leave Turtle outside.

He'd set it by his dinner bowl while he ate. If the turtle wandered off, he'd retrieve it after dinner. The turtle seemed to thrive all summer so he must have gotten enough alone time to find food.

One bad habit of Rebel's proved to be the downfall of the turtle. Rebel's water bowl was a large, three-gallon pail. We kept it by the pump house so it was easy to keep fresh water out for him. When he got a drink, he would sometimes dunk the turtle in the pail, drink his water, then dunk his head under to get the turtle out. By the time we realized what he was doing, it was too late.

One day he apparently got distracted while he was drinking and forgot his turtle. It was sad. The funeral was attended by Mildred, the lone Rhode Island Red hen, Ducky Lucky, the wild, rescued Mallard duck, Samantha the Calico Cat (and the best copper head snake catcher in the county), a lonely and confused Rebel, my Grandmother, and a very young version of me. Turtle later had to be re-interred by a friend a couple miles away. Rebel wasn't content to let him rest in peace.

He never got another special Turtle, even though there were always several to be found around the place.

Caroline, such a good storyteller you are. I loved your tale of Rebel and his turtle.

I believe that cats are special animals although when I lived on a farm, my companion was a dog. I note in the post above about the 'greetings' cats give their owners. Watch carefully, you do not own that cat, he owns you! Cats have marking glands on the sides of their heads. When they 'lovingly' rub their head against you leg, it is not an action of endearment; That cat is marking you with a scent. After that action, you are his item. In fact, the cat might become a little agitated if he smells the scent of another cat on you. He will do his utmost to wipe out that scent and replace it with his own.

Cats are so quick to do something once, and then its become a habit.

Every nite after dinner I make a pot of tea. I happened to give our 3 cats their treats at that time. I did this twice.
Now, every time they hear the kettle come out of the cupboard, they show up in the kitchen. They could be sound asleep, it could be on a Saturday afternoon, but when they hear the kettle, it's treat time!

Smudge will come out to the kitchen, then turn and walk away, he wants me to follow him and give him his treats where "he" wants. Lately it's been at the front door, or in the hallway. No idea why, but I have to follow him.

Smudge has two weird habits. He hates closed doors, so he paws at the door. We first saw this when we saw him at the Humane Society. You have some time with your potential pet in a room to get used to him, to see how you react to one another. Smudge would paw at the door. We didn't think anything of it, but he does it even now. He likes doing the bedroom closet door (even when
it's open early in the morning....2:30, 4 am, whatever. I keep a squirt bottle handy for those times.

Smudge is a Maine Coon, and makes a dozen different sounds. Every nite when we go to bed, he's out in the living room howling, crying like a baby, singing his head off. We lay in bed and just laugh. He'll "sing" all the way down the hall to the bedroom.

Bud is just a mutt, a short haired tabby, but he always comes running when called. Just have to say Bud, and he jumps off the bed and runs to us. He's like a dog in many ways. If there's a food he doesn't like (he liked it fine one day, then not the next) he'll sit beside his dish, not moving or saying anything, knowing that I'll open a different can for him.

Smudge doesn't like any part of the bottom of the bowl showing of their dry food dish. Even shaking it, so that the bottom is covered, is fine with him.