There are people out there who actually believe that dogs have psychic abilities. That we can talk to each other without moving our lips. That we can predict the weather. That we can diagnose tumors and recognize evil humans as they approach. That we can tell when Stump's coming home before his airplane has even landed and that we know when you've put a pill in our food no matter how deeply you bury it in some fancy meat product.
Okay. Okay. Some of that is slight-of-paw, some is misdirection, much is careful observation. (If you spent 24/7 observing me the way I spend 24/7 observing you, you'd have a much better understanding of why I hate playing "fetch my stinky slippers." Argh.)
Yes, there's a rare few, like your humble author The Gerret, who truly have some psychic abilities. For instance, I know that at this very moment you are reading my blog.
Now you're thinking, "that's a stupid joke."
Now you're thinking "how did he know what I was doing and thinking?"
But let's go back to the "talking without moving our lips" thing.
Because people anthropomorphize dogs, they expect them to talk with their mouths. But mainly we talk with our tails. You probably wouldn't know about that since you don't have tails, just booty. In fact, some folks think dog tails are superfluous and they cut them off. Sheesh. Try cutting out your tongue and going to a cocktail party. You get the picture.
Dog tails are like billboards, and GPS systems, and cell phone towers and dog podcasts all rolled into one. To wit, my newest movie: