I'm babysitting the pets of a friend. When I was growing up, we had a dog, and a cat, too. But I never was really close with them. But I find my friend's pets utterly fascinating!
From time to time, they need to be sent outside, to take care of calls of nature. Usually I do it by the clock, but sometimes they want to go out a little earlier, and I find the process where they let me know "Out, quickly!" amazing, and amusing. Then, of course, I want them to come back in. (If they stay outside, they feel that they have to bark at all sorts of imaginary enemies, which is considered bad form.). So I call out to them, and they stand all the way at the back fence, and stare at me, as though I'm out of my mind!
It's an interesting adventure, me trying to get them to understand what I'm thinking, and them trying to get me to understand what they're thinking.
I often think that it would awesome if they and I could actually converse. In fact, I once read a book called 'The magnificent Wilf,' in which there was a dog who could speak to its owners telepathically. I have thought about this a long time, and I have changed my mind; what's neat about this particular set of pets is precisely the communication problem! If they could talk, after a while it would get boring. Struggling to be understood is interesting to me (maybe not to them). When they can't make me understand, it's just business as usual, because their whole lives have been spent with humans who only have the merest inkling of what is needed.
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