I was at the park with my dog and started talking to another dog owner. He got bored and decided to leave without me. As soon as I realised I ran out of the park to find him walking down the street toward my house, the road was pretty busy so I nearly shat myself and started sprinting down the street after him.
I saw him look both ways, wait for the traffic to stop for him and then cross the road.
By the time I caught up to him he had already crossed and was just having a casual stroll home.
About two weeks ago, just before we had to have him put down, I went to pick him up from the vets. They said he had improved overnight, the moment they said he could go home he jumped off my lap and went straight to the door. He kept looking back at me as if to tell me to hurry up.
He was a brilliant dog.
I had a dog that got hit by a car. He ended up losing his front leg. This dog was a big pupper. Easily 80 pounds. Once he came home, I could not carry him, but my husband could. The dog HATED going potty in the house, so he quickly learned to walk outside with me. Three weeks in, he was walking and jumping down the steps UNLESS his daddy was home. Then he couldn't move. Just sit and whine and cry pathetically until daddy carried him.
He got busted one day when he didn't hear his dad's car pull up. Launched himself down the 3 porch steps, realized his dad was right there and fell over hard, crying. But it was too late, the gig was up.
However, he continued this type of 'I'm too weak' behavior - but only with my husband - for the next 10 years until he died of old age.
I am diabetic and one night I fell on my carpet from weakness and disorientation. My beloved dog, who now rests in Heaven, brought my emergency kit from my bathroom counter so I could take my medication.
Just writing this post brought tears to my eyes.
I will always remember you Bumper.
First Christmas we had our cat she saw us handing out presents and opening them and abruptly ran off. About twenty minutes later she comes back with a dead bird and dropped it in the present pile. It's uh definitely the thought that counts?
If all of the spots on the couch were taken, my dog would scratch the door to go out and when someone gets up he would take their spot.
I work at a pet store, and a big part of the job is listening to people talk about how great their average-ass pets are. But man, every now and then you get a good one. We have a family that owns a couple of African Grey parrots. When the kids were teenagers, the parents went out of town for the weekend, specifying there should be no parties whatsoever in their absence. Naturally the kids throw the party, and manage to clean up brilliantly. They almost got away with it until at dinner the night the parents returned, the Greys started making this whole new range of sounds including the sound of a beer pop tab opening, and the sounds of ping pong balls hitting plastic cups and the floor. Busted by birds.
When I was a stupid kid, I was eating warhead hard candies. Instead of eating them like a normal person, I was squeezing one end and shooting it into my mouth. Well, I squeezed too hard and it got lodged in my throat. I made it to the back door (my dad was in the garage) before I collapsed. My cat ran out, and started swatting at my dad and got him to follow her. That was scary.
When I was an infant, I was in my crib next to my parents bed. I somehow got twisted up and started suffocating in my blanket. This cat jumped on my mom's face until she woke up, then jumped into my crib. Had it not been for her, I would have died.
We lived in an apartment complex that didn't allow pets. Unfortunately the people who frequently drove into the complex and dumped unwanted cats & dogs weren't aware that residents weren't allowed to have pets. One evening, there was an orange tabby crying piteously in the yard behind our building just 25 yards from one of the busiest roads in our city. The neighbor across the breezeway said that she saw him tossed out of a car that morning. I was worried that he would get creamed on the road and spent two hours sitting in the grass next to him with a bowl of ground hamburger to earn his trust. I had no idea what I was going to do with him after that, I just didn't want to see him starve or get run over.
After a few weeks we worked out a living arrangement - he stayed in the apartment during the day with food and water and a bed and then went outside at night. We had to keep his presence hidden so that the apartment management wouldn't fine us or evict us. We couldn't keep cat food bowls outside or a litter box inside (the staff collected garbage, so they'd know if I was dumping used cat litter). Due to his effervescent personality we started calling him Jonsey, the Shithead (Aliens reference). We were working on a solution house him permanently, but it was going to be a few more months before we could either get him into a rescue or move to a new residence that allowed pets.
One night, during a round of terrible thunderstorms and heavy rain Jonsey was less than thrilled to head outside and we weren't hot on the idea either. So he curled up in the corner of the couch and we headed to bed. The following morning I woke up and stumbled for the coffee maker. My husband asked me if the reason I was so tired was because I was up late cleaning up after the cat. I had no idea what he was talking about. He told me to look in the kitchen sink. There was a dishrag lying in the bottom of the sink and when I moved it there was cat poop in the drain. It took me few seconds to figure out what I was looking at and what it meant. To my husband it looked as if I had cleaned up cat poop and, in disgust had just thrown it in the sink to deal with it in the morning. What had actually happened was that Jonsey needed to use the bathroom and, instead of using any of my many houseplants, the corner, or just about anywhere else, he had chosen the absolute best alternative to a litter box available to him - the empty kitchen sink. He'd done his business and courteously covered it over with the dishtowel I always kept draped over the neck of the faucet. He earned a forever home with us and we moved to a house a few months after that.
I have pet rats. One of them broke a tooth, and the infection spread to her brain (the teeth go all the way up above the brain). I had her on antibiotics, but she was a bit "tilted" to one side. When they were out on a table, I noticed her falling over near the edge of the table, and was afraid that she would fall.
However, before I have time to react and move, another of my rats walk up to her, takes a firm but careful grip around the base of her tail and pulls her away from the edge of the table.
Now, I know one should be careful in placing human thoughts in animal heads, but usually, a rat "biting" another rat's tail is a surefire way to start a fight, and I can't see any other reason to do it except that she saw ahead, noticed the potential problem, figured out what to do to solve it and implemented that solution.
Dogs are awesome. I had a gentle giant growing up and once a guy drove up the road at double the legal speed in a narrow, twisted medieval street near a school, almost hitting both my dad and my dog.
My dad loudly yelled "asshole" and gestured at the car, and the guy, proving he was even more an asshole than previously thought, stopped his car, got out and did a few steps to threaten my dad.
My dog gently sat down, managed to make his fur double in size, and did the kind of growl you only hear dogs do once or twice in their lifetime, the kind that says "You better not make one more step". My dad did not even have the time to think of an answer before the guy did a full U turn and got back in his car to drive away.
My dad had a hard time telling us the story because he was laughing so much at the face the guy made.
Also, seeing it's about being intelligent, my old dog understood how to open silently the doors where the treats where and close them back, but never did it when someone was around. We had to film him.
He also figured out once that every now and then, some old ladies would gather up in the house next door which was owned by the municipality to host club events. He knew when they would come somehow and would climb the garden wall to get some biscuits from them. I miss him.
I had the best dog ever. One night I was fast asleep and he was gently "biting" my hand just enough to wake me up. Once I woke up he started tugging on it as if to say, follow me. It was so weird. SO I follow him and he leads me to the side door or my house, sits facing the door and barks ever so silently. I then realize someone is outside picking the lock. I called 911. It was a drunk guy, no idea what his intentions were once he got in, but my dog for some reason managed to get him arrested. He probably would have been scared away had my dog just barked, but for some reason the old boy wanted to alert me quietly.