So just what are they thinking away?

The other day, I heard Sammy Davis' song "Talk to the Animals" on the radio. The song is nonsense, of course. But I found myself wondering if they could talk, what would animals say?

Take this morning, for example. The Happy Dog and I were taking our usual stroll through the neighborhood. The colors are turning quickly this week. That means leaves are falling, too. When that happens, The Happy Dog's nose goes into overdrive. He was sniffing, pooping and peeing up a storm this morning. I found myself wondering just what the hell is going on in that mind of his anyway. At one point, he suddenly veered off the sidewalk into the street to smell what looked like a tiny leaf. The Happy Dog checked it out from all angles before he was satisfied. We resumed walking for about 10 feet when he suddenly stopped and headed back to the leaf. After sniffing it again, he fired and scored a direct hit.

Question: Why did he return?

Answer: He didn't say. But he sure looked happy about it.

As we continued enjoying the sun, I was suddenly aware of a noise in front of me. It was a squirrel chattering excitedly. Nobody else was around. I saw no nests anywhere. The Happy Dog looked up in surprise and growled under his breath. I had the impression they were having some type of conversation about something. But it reminded me of high school Latin class. I had no idea what the hell was going on.

I would have liked to ask The Happy Dog to explain himself a bit when he does such things. There are other curiosities I wish I understood. One of my favorites is the Phantom Pee. In the winter (when there is snow on the ground), he gets busted on this. Now I can only suspect why he stopped, lifted his leg and nothing appears to come out.

There were other oddities today. We have a small woodpecker who makes cameo appearances in the neighborhood. This morning, he was perched on a telephone pole. But he wasn't pecking. He seemed to be staring at something. When I went a little farther, I saw it was a squirrel in a nearby tree. I can't imagine he envisioned this as his breakfast. I wish I knew what was going on there.

As we were finishing our stroll, I was suddenly aware of rustling in a nearby yard. I looked in surprise to see a rabbit (at least I THINK it was a rabbit) in hot pursuit of a cat. I had never seen such a thing before. I wondered whether the cat grabbed something the rabbit had found because (in my brief glance) it seemed like something was sticking out of the edge of his mouth. The cat streaked past us and shot across Grotto St. at warp speed. The rabbit suddenly stopped on the sidewalk as if to watch out for cars. By the time (s) he looked up again, the cat was long gone. At this juncture, The Happy Dog suddenly spotted the rabbit and was interested in joining the chase. I grabbed the leash as hard as I could to stop this idea and received a nasty, angry look in return. The rabbit, not taking any chances, bolted into a nearby yard and was gone in a flash. The Happy Dog was not thrilled with me and promptly sat down on the sidewalk. He needed a solid reminder to get moving again.

Once home, he didn't even stay for his customary treat. Instead, he zipped to the back door and wanted to get back outside. Again, I would have loved to ask him what was the problem.

Like kids, our animals seem to forget their woes easily. The Happy Dog returned to form an hour later when out friend Steph came by to drop some stuff off. The Happy Dog knows Steph loves him but doesn't like dog kisses. Still, he tries to sneak one in when he can. Normally, it doesn't work. Today, however, he slipped one in and then romped happily into the back yard. I suspect he was quite pleased with himself.

Sammy had it right. I wish we could converse with our animals. I suspect we might not like everything we hear. But we would learn some things.