Critters

The other day when I was going to teach my class, I saw this goose in the middle of the parking lot. That struck me as odd, so, of course, I took out my phone and took a picture of it. And another picture, because I'm never positive that a picture has turned out until I look at it on my computer. So I have to take extras, as a sort of insurance. And if I try to take a picture with a decent resolution, it takes forever to save, so after I take the original picture, I get to spend a fair amount of time staring at a rotating hourglass icon before I can snap the emergency back-up picture. So it's always a very real possibility that the scene will have changed by that point.


By the time I was taking picture number two of the goose, I was starting to wonder if the little guy was okay. If he was okay, wouldn't he have moved by now? Just then, he lifted his head and let out a loud "HONK!"


I'm guessing that was a "Yes".

Another critter story. Remember I was telling you about the rat boys and their different learning curves? I continue to spend time interacting with them when I can, so that they are comfortable being handled by me. This afternoon, I took a couple of whole wheat pretzels, broke them into pieces, and brought them up to Daughter's room.

By now they know that I usually come bearing gifts, so as soon as I open the door to the room, I've got their attention. By the time I open the door to their cage, Dango is right there waiting. Today I decided that, rather than handing each of them a treat, I wanted them to walk over to my hand to get their snacks. Dango came right up to me, gently accepted the pretzel bit I offered him, and then hurried back into the cage to eat it.

While Dango was happily polishing off his snack, Vlad showed up at the door of the cage. He looked at the treat in my hand, paused a bit, and then climbed the outside wall of the cage in search of food on the roof. Because, after learning from watching Dango, he knew that's where the food was. And I thought, how weird! The food had been inches away from his nose--even if I'm overestimating his visual abilities and he didn't actually see me holding the pretzel bit, surely he must have smelled it. Yet he climbed up away from it, and searched all over the roof for food that wasn't there. Then it occurred to me, "Hey, he's making the 'A-not-B error'!" See, not only do I teach psychology, but I can be downright geeky about this stuff. ;)

And speaking of geeky, there's a bag of dry cat kibble (which I bought from a local health food store) sitting on our kitchen table. Its name, oddly (for a cat food), is "Spot's Stew". So for several days now, I've had Commander Data's "Ode to Spot" stuck in my head.

Felis Cattus, is your taxonomic nomenclature,
an endothermic quadruped carnivorous by nature?
Your visual, olfactory and auditory senses
contribute to your hunting skills, and natural defenses.

I find myself intrigued by your subvocal oscillations,
a singular development of cat communications
that obviates your basic hedonistic predilection
for a rhythmic stroking of your fur, to demonstrate affection.

A tail is quite essential for your acrobatic talents;
you would not be so agile if you lacked its counterbalance.
And when not being utilized to aide in locomotion,
it often serves to illustrate the state of your emotion.

O Spot, the complex levels of behaviour you display
connote a fairly well-developed cognitive array.
And though you are not sentient, Spot, and do not comprehend,
I nonetheless consider you a true and valued friend.

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