The other night, as I was making a rushed pre-raid tuna sandwich, I was importuned, bothered and pestered by a begging cat trying hard to impersonate a starving animal. I put a little tuna in each of their bowls, and after taking a quick bite, Laurence ran upstairs to find Kit and bring him down.
That amazed me. Kit, certainly, would have wolfed both his and Laurence’s tuna, quick before the Lolcat knew it was there. But Laurence wanted to share, and didn’t want Kit to miss out.
I’d love to know what animals think, what thought processes they go through. Laurence is an odd cat. He obsesses about certain toys to the point where we have to hide them aside from short play periods, otherwise he will fret all night and not sleep. He’ll be patient with us gaming until 9:30 on the dot, when he starts meowing at us. (Over and over again, like Chinese water torture.) 9:30 is evidently the time that we need to come downstairs, put the fire on, and play with him.
The most touching thing I ever saw an animal do was done by Gambit, the Golden Retriever that I used to have. He always carried a stuffed animal with him, which we called his baby (he had a long series of babies from the charity shop – when one got too disgusting, he would get a new one, and was always extremely excited about it). He would put it down just long enough to eat, he slept with it, and god forbid any other dog tried to touch his baby.
My boyfriend at the time acquired a dog which happened to be sick. He tried hard to save it, but it became obvious that the dog wasn’t going to make it. Prior to taking the last trip to the vet, I saw Gambit walk over to him and gently, very gently, lay his baby on the other dog’s front legs, then back off. I was in tears.
If I could be telepathic, I wouldn’t want to know what other people were thinking…it would be hurtful, banal, and occasionally nasty. But I would love to know what animals are really thinking.