Bridget, the psychic
Welcome back to the bark side of life here in Ottertail, where morning has broken quietly and an azure sky fills the horizon with the promise of another sunny day.
Summer zips along at the speed of light, laughter, and joy and like the vegetables in our garden the time is right for harvesting. I receive lots of tales from my readers, but this week I have a tale from a reader who looks for typos, grammatical hiccups, and just plain lousy typing. She's my editor (whenever she around to proof read my work) she's my best friend, and my lovely wife Cindy.
Last week, I asked the question, "Are cats and dogs psychic?" Let's hear from Cindy and see what she has to say on the subject.
I grew up in the country, and my Dad favored German shepherds as his outside companion. Our animals lived outside, except my Mom made an exception for my gold fish! I don't know if it was in preparation for the "empty nest" or what sparked the interest of my parents to purchase an inside dog. But that's what they did.
We brought home a 2 ½ pound Boston Terrier and named her Bridget. She was the runt of the litter, never weighed in at more than 10 pounds soaking wet! As a puppy, we had to guard over her when she went outside so that the cats would not harm her. My Mom prepared her special foods because Bridget was "delicate" and she had to prop her dish up so that she could swallow and breathe while eating! I only preface this because... she became the hub of our household. I'd never seen my Dad so enthralled and proud of "anyone" before! (She was an exceptionally smart little dog, probably smarter than we realized at the time.)
Bridget was close to 3 years old when I left home for college. I didn't get home that often, but one weekend I decided to make a surprise visit. I headed out on the 2.5-hour trip after my last Friday class. My parents were experiencing a different problem with their darling little Bridget. A little over an hour before I arrived at home, Bridget was running to the door... they'd let her out, she'd want back in.
She'd jump up on the couch, climb the stack of pillows in order to look out the window (the house did revolve around her needs) and then run back to the door. She was totally restless and could not be settled. I drove in. Her restlessness turned to uncontained excitement... her young mistress was home. All was well in Bridget's world.
That could have been written up as a fluke, but a year later my parents vacationed in Canada ... who gets to take care of the little darling? I spent a week cooking her special foods and playing with her and she'd only look at me with those big eyes...as if trying to figure out why everyone abandoned us!
Then I got sick with a really bad sinus infection and Bridget and I spent lots of time napping... until 2 days before my folks were scheduled to come home. Bridget spent the whole day restless, running to the door, the window, to me... I could not figure out what she wanted and all I wanted to do was sleep. Towards evening, my folks drove in -- two days in advance of their scheduled return! I did not know they were coming... but did Bridget? Once again, her world was calm.
Thanks, Cindy, for sharing a tale that might just prove dogs can be psychic. When I lived in California, there were countless documented examples of pets acting peculiar just before an earthquake. Do they pick up vibrations on a whole different level? The jury is still out. Do you readers have any tales that could prove or disprove that animals have psychic abilities. Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org or write in to Keith Alan Ross, Richville, MN 56576 or phone me at 218-495-2195.
In my book, Tales From The Bark Side, I tell a tale about my Persian cat Fritz that falls into that category. You'll have to buy the book to find out because the story has not been published in my column before.