A word is dead

When it is said,

Some say.

I say it just

Begins to live

That day.

Even though we humans like to use our written and spoken language as evidence of our superior brain-power, like all animal displays words that have one meaning in one context may have a completely different meaning in another. This podcast considers one word commonly used in behavior whose new meaning may, literally, come back to bite us.

After I did last week’s podcast, I kept thinking about  animals who live between two worlds, either by their own choice or those imposed on them by humans.  When I did that, I came up with other examples and the feeling that there were even more. In fact, by the time I finished recording this, I had to wonder whether this might be becoming the norm instead of the exception in the human-companion animal world.

Lest you cat-folks think you’re spared from a lot of temptations that dog-folks must face in this regard, don’t be too sure. The day after I recorded this podcast there was an article in my local paper about cat agility, complete with a picture of a cat leaping over a hurdle and, naturally, a caption that mentioned her time running the course. Who knows? Maybe there will be Mouse-Catching Olympics one day, too.

In spite of my vow to limit my exposure to what now passes as news reporting for my mental health, it’s impossible to escape the rescue culture that is deeply entrenched in our society. The devastating earthquake in Haiti has yet again brought this to the forefront, both in its best and worst forms. Even so, come March 1^st when this commentary will be published, it’s possible that our interest in the subject will have waned. By then stories of animal-rescuing efforts may grab the attention of what little media remains on the scene. Or perhaps some new human and/or animal disaster somewhere else will occur and the media will turn all eyes there.

It turns out that a new earthquake, this one in Chile, has already diverted what little attention was being focused on Haiti somewhere else and so the rescue cycle begins again. To explore what all this may mean relative to animals click here.

Because nature isn’t linear, it’s only natural to expect there to be individuals and species which don’t quite fit into the little boxes we humans create for them. When these animals occur in the wild, their ability to span two worlds is a source of amazement to us. Who can deny what such individuals and species reveal about the fantastic potential inherent in even the lowest of life-forms? And who could can deny their appeal to us novelty-loving humans?

When such creatures so evolve to survive in their environments is one thing. But when animals wind up trapped between their worlds and ours simply to suit our purposes, well, that’s something else entirely.

One of the many things I enjoy about working with animals is that their behavior is so understandable. This isn’t to say there aren’t any surprises. There are many. But once you understand the basics, there’s a certain logic and elegance that underlies it. Because even we humans who say we don’t feel superior to other animal species inevitably act as if we are, dealing with incomprehensible human behavior serves as a good  reminder where we fit in in the overall scheme of things.

Following the episode described in this podcast, I’m sure we’re nowhere as high up in system as we like to think.

Something else about the gift magazine that serves as the jumping off point for this podcast: the issue I received was 2 years old!  There was something about getting a brand new copy of a 2-year-old magazine for my waiting room that struck me as incredibly funny. I mean, what better place for an old magazine than in a waiting room?

This caused me to imagine a creative publisher (an unusual state in and of itself) pondering what to do with that stack of perfectly good, but old magazines in the corner. He—I’m sure it’s a he because this is definitely a publication aimed at males—ponders more lucrative markets for old magazines than the local recycling center. His mind drifts toward places where he routinely sees old magazines. Immediately the waiting room of the local medical clinic pops into his mind. Probably not a good match. But then he has a eureka! moment.

And as a result of this, or some other quirk of fate, I wind up with the crisp new copy of a 2-year-old magazine that served as a catalyst for this podcast. Sort of cosmic in its own way.

This podcast was the result of spending—or wasting as the case may be—weeks trying to select new colors for my website redesign, only to get blindsided by a quirk of computer and human perception. On the other hand, the collapse of my naive belief that, given the same color code, computer systems would display a website of the exact color I wanted later struck me as similar to the way genes and their results are often perceived. People or animals who have Gene A will have or will get Condition B.

Would that colors and genes were both so simple!

Novelist Marcel Proust said that “…every reader is, while he is reading, the reader of his own self.” The same can be said of writers who, whether they want to or not, often tell the reader much more about themselves than the subject about which they write. Such was my experience reading The Wolf in the Parlor by Jon Franklin (Henry Holt and Company, New York, 2009).

To read more, click here.

Remember the childhood rhyme “For Want of a Nail”?

For want of a nail the shoe was lost.

For want of a shoe the horse was lost.

For want of a horse the rider was lost.

For want of a rider the battle was lost.

For want of a battle the kingdom was lost.

And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.

Ignoring the fact that this rhyme doesn’t rhyme, the point those who introduced us to this little ditty wanted to make is that ignoring things that superficially appear to be insignificant can have grave consequences down the line. No doubt the reason this non rhyme has endured so long is because it’s still true today.

I’m writing this at a time that some of you may have never experienced. It’s not in the wee hours of the morning or in some exotic time zone. I’m writing this at approximately 10:40 a.m.  Not exactly 10:38 or 10:41 as your digital clock, watch, computer, or iPhone might tell you. I’m writing this at some time roughly around 10:40, give or take a few minutes. This deliciously uncertain state is courtesy of the analog wall clock in my office. If I looked at the digital clock on my computer or the one in the bedroom, each would tell me exactly what time it is. Or, rather, exactly what time each of them thinks it is. And, more likely than not, the two won’t agree. And I for one wouldn’t bet the ranch that either of them is correct given I take a reading from my battery powered analog watch or clock to reset them when the power goes out and the “right” time when I start this process with the digital clock on the oven will be the wrong time by the time I reach the digital clock in the bedroom. To compensate for this I guess, sometimes right, sometimes wrong. So unlike my analog clock which is always in the right time ballpark, my digital clocks are either totally right or completely wrong.

Digital systems in computers and in  yes/no, positive/negative, normal/abnormal thought patterns are the subject of this week’s podcast. Like the little girl with the little curl right in the middle of her forehead, when used in environments where only such either/or options exist, they’re very, very good. But when we try to apply them to areas where multiple alternatives or shades of grey may exist, well, they can be pretty doggone horrid.

As I was reading various articles about the mirror test for self-awareness that’s supposed to prove human superiority (click here for one such article), I couldn’t help thinking about termites.  Specifically, I was thinking about an African species called the bellicose termite. They build huge mounds that include chambers in which they eliminate their poorly digested waste. There the waste is processed by a species of fungus they cultivate which converts the waste to more food for the termites. Because the fungus gardens produce a lot of heat and because the fungus grows best within the 30-31 degree C range, the termite mounds also include a very effective, highly energy-efficient climate control system. Moreover, the termites adapt their structures to the soil type and environmental conditions where they build. Some of these may be 20’ tall and have a “cellar” 6’ down, 10-12’ in diameter and 2’ high.

I imagine two of these termites discussing the relative intelligence of humans. One of them, Egomite, believes that termites are the most superior species. The other, Naturmite, views them as part of a greater whole.

“I think humans are lower life-forms,” argues Egomite.

“I’m not saying they’re not,” replies Naturmite. “But just because they’re lower life forms doesn’t mean they can’t be self-aware like we are.”

“I’ll prove it,” counters his pal. “We’ll give them a test.”

“What kind of a test?”

“Well, I think anyone who is self-aware should be able to build a climate controlled building with an equally energy-efficient waste-retrieval system that can be adapted to a variety of different ground conditions,” replies Egomite after some thought.

“I’m sure there are humans who could do that,” declares Naturmite confidently.

“That’s only the first part of the test,” continues the termite champion.  “Taking into account how much bigger they are, their building should be at least a mile high to be comparable to one of our mounds. And, of course, they can’t use any tools.”

“Now, wait a minute! That’s not fair! ” blusters Naturmite. “You know they can’t do that given their lack of communication skills and other limitations!”

“I rest my case,” proclaims Egomite smugly.

For most of us the beginning for a new year is a time of regrouping. Regular schedules return, sometimes complicated by having to play catch-up on tasks we let go over the holidays. Then there’s atonement for all we ate–Christmas cookies for breakfast even!–and how little we exercised. Unwrapping presents does not count as exercise any more than moving briskly through buffet lines while filling a plate does.

But while most of us are aware of post-holiday let-down and its causes in our lives, that our pets might experience something similar doesn’t occur to us.  And because the very nature of the human-companion animal bond makes us expect them to serve as a source of comfort when we’re having a rough time, adding a pet with post-holiday problems can make us feel worse. Yet another one of those human-animal interactions that are better prevented.

One of the things I’m doing post-holiday is digging out from a New Year’s Eve through January 3rd snow. There wasn’t a lot of snow, but it was constant. And it was the perfect snow to stick to certain dogs’ fur and give rise to thoughtful expressions:

The cat, on the other hand, preferred to observe from somewhere where he could keep himself sleek and tidy.

If the title makes you think that I’ve succumbed to the hyperbole that permeates all things companion animal from (gross!) canine butt-covers to adopted pets as holiday gifts, fear not. The title represents the distillation of numerous good resolutions into one that will be easy to remember even when feeling the most frazzled. Can you guess what it is?

I’ll give you two hints. 1. This resolution is thousands of years old and probably predates human language. 2. It possesses the power to reduce even the worst pet-related situations to manageable ones.

Give up? Find out what it is here.

The facts are pretty straight-forward. Dan moved into a townhouse several months ago and put up the artificial tree with built-in lights that he decorates every year. In his new place, the tree is beside a sliding glass door overlooking a small deck and the rest of the housing complex. The tree is not slanted, but for some reason I was when I took this picture. To the left of the tree you can see the drapes on the door.

This year the tree is missing two components that it’s enjoyed in the past. One is the decorative skirt that covered the base of the tree. The first part of the mystery is why Newman the cat decided to sleep under it for the first time in his life, inspiring Lumpy to drag him out of there. This did not bode well for either the tree or the gifts beneath it, so the skirt went.  Here’s  a picture of Newman and Lumpy during the family celebration:

Now if you look at the tree carefully, you can see evidence of the second mystery: the lack of lights and ornaments in its lower left corner. What happened to the lights is unknown. However the ornaments, and only those ornaments, were removed. Dan would find them piled up beside the sleeping dog in the morning.  None were damaged even though some were quite delicate. When it first happened, Dan replaced the ornaments. But after it became clear that they were not going to survive the night on the tree, he removed them.

So there’s the mystery. Did the ornaments interfere when Lumpy was trying to look through the curtains of the sliding glass door?  Was the light from the door such that it created reflections in those ornaments that bothered him for some reason? Or did the reflections or something else about those ornaments carry a positive emotional charge for him, and he removed them to keep them safe? Or maybe the Lumpy theories are all wrong and the cat removed the ornaments and put them next to the sleeping dog in hopes of getting him into trouble.

As of this writing, any or none of these explanations could be the right one. Lumpy is not what anyone would call the Einstein of goldens and for sure his world view is unique. But if he did remove those ornaments, I’m sure he had a very good reason for doing it. And if the cat did, I’m sure he had a good reason, too.

Here’s a final picture of Lumpy to remind us that, no matter how many storms the new year may bring, there’s always time to play in the snow.

Season’s Greetings from the three furry muses who live in the little house on the hill.

May the coming year be filled with the very best for you and your loved ones of all species.

FRICA

OLLIE

BAMBOO

THE LITTLE HOUSE ON THE HILL

I drove by the scene of the crime several days after I recorded this. The body is gone, but the sign is still upside down. Hopefully, we’re not dealing with a serial killer.

What I was a kid, I used to long for all the special television shows and movies of the holiday season. Even after I moved here to the dead zone, I’d still think about those holiday media events. Even though I can’t say for sure because the seasonal pull is great, some of this year’s offerings make me happy to read a book while the dogs do their doggy things and the cat masters his many feline talents. This week’s podcast is about two of them.

When I was a little kid, one of the stories I distinctly remember from my  second or third grade reading book was about a little boy who got new copper-toed (if you can imagine such a thing) boots and became so engrossed  looking at them as he walked that he got lost. That was my first of many encounters with the limits of human navigational skills. Now there are scientists who study this phenomenon as it affects our brains and view of reality. And some of them ponder the effect electronic devices that do this kind of thinking for us have on that view.  Naturally this led me to wonder how such reality shifts might affect the animals living with us.

It’s that time of year again when thoughts about holiday gifts creep into our minds more and more often. Only this year as last, finding the funds for even token gifts is out of the question for many people. But not to worry. There are several great gifts we can give our pets this holiday season that don’t cost a cent. Not only that, these gifts will lead their recipients to bestow different, but equally enjoyable gifts upon us.

Want to know what those gifts are? Click here.

After I recorded this I realized I hadn’t mentioned what I learned from cockroaches. I’ll save that for another podcast.