We left the nest in place… this year I noticed a new(?) Robin flying around our front door- I waited til I saw it fly away and then held up my camera to get a glimpse inside the nest…

And I like the dog.

But her celebration ritual when I return makes up for it…

People that claim it is simply human projection to read human emotions into a dog’s behavior have obviously never had a dog.

Our dog grins, laughs- has a sense of humor (admittedly a low-brow, slapstick humor), loves different people in different ways, and communicates in a spookily clear way… understands much of what we say, understands how to communicate to us what she wants, and in some cases has taught us how to communicate to her in her language a bit better…

I once tried to figure out what her english vocabulary must be…. its probably over a dozen words and some syntax… “UP” means many different things depending on the other words used with it and other context.

There have been quite a few incidents where she has genuinely creeped me out with her level of intelligence.

It’s like living with an unusually pleasant and well behaved toddler. And the odd thing is we never really had to work at training her to be so well behaved- she just knows. She knows what Items are hers to chew on and tear up, and what items are ours- our items she treats with care and respect… even when she was a puppy. All her favorite treats are in bags within her reach- she will establish eye contact and point to them with her nose when she wants one, but would NEVER help herself to the bag. We never had to scold her to teach her that… same with the trash can…

In our neighborhood, we often get flocks of Ibis, large Everglades-type wading birds, patrolling the lawns looking for grubs turned up by the lawn mowers. Our cat soon learned that if we looked out a window and whispered loudly in a conspiratorial voice “Birds”, that there were neat creatures outdoors that needed to be investigated.

She also knew her name, and several other key phrases. (Like “Food”). And she also knew when we were looking for the cat caddy for her trip to the vet, or when we were both getting ready to leave the house.

I remember Jay Leno telling a story of how he and his cat used to play hide-and-seek in the house. In the dark, of course, the cat always had the advantage. Leno mentioned that he once got a pair of night-vision goggles to even up the score, and that his cat was very troubled by his sudden ability to see in the dark. Stories like this tell us that, mammals at least, are capable of recognizing us as fellow sentient creatures, not just lifeless mobiles mindlessly dispensiing treats and punishment.

She also knows the name of her best dog friend and her friend’s owner- to the point we have to spell out their names when discussing them- if we slip up and say their names in our dog’s presence she gets excited thinking they are coming to visit. She knows the name of all her favorite people- its rather shocking just how much dog’s understand.

I can tempt her to go out by telling her there is a squirrel in the yard- but ONLY if it is daylight, and she sees that I have actually looked out into the yard- she knows ‘night squirrels’ are not a thing, and that I can only know there are squirrels out there if I have checked first. After dark I have to say I see a deer to convince her to go out.

Often she is only willing to go out if it is clear I am prepared to go out either with her, or to rush to her rescue if something bad happens out there- so I have to put on shoes first- she knows I don’t go outside barefoot. If it is cold, she will insist I put on a coat as well…

At any rate, the park was ideal for this because there was no shrubbery where the snake could go to ground and escape. But there were a few scattered saplings, and I soon learned the rat snake family were excellent climbers. Rufus moved up the trunk, very deftly taking advantage of every wrinkle and crevice in the bark to leverage itself up quickly. It was still moving too slowly to get high enough to escape from me, so I allowed it to climb, fascinated by how expertly it exploited the texture of the bark to move up off the ground.

Suddenly, from all over the park, a flock of song birds showed up;
jays, robins, thrushes; attacking the snake, pecking at it, doing their best to peck at it and drive it off the tree. I tried to wave them off, I was afraid they could hurt my pet, but they didn’t seem to even notice I was there. They were determined to make life miserable for that snake. Eventually, I had to pull it off the tree and carry it back to my house, followed by a haze of angry birds who seemed to have no fear of me whatsoever.

I’ve learned since that tree-climbing snakes are a threat to nests, eggs and chicks, and the birds have evolved an instinctive hatred for them, and are ready to suspend their own territorial issues and cooperate to drive them away from their turf.

I know that in Florida, the corn snake (a close relative of the black rat snake) is also a good climber and often plunders bird nests. The woodpecker has a clever defense: It pecks holes on the southern side of pine trees for its nests. The sun melts out the sticky pine sap that oozes out of the hole, and it drips down the trunk making a gummy slime the snakes find distasteful and avoid.

Its funny how behavior can evolve into instinct.