This time our QOTW wraps us in the aura of animals with the question of the week: "What's the smartest thing you've seen an animal do?" Above all, those who accompany our days by sharing the living space, the anguish and the joys. Having a pet allows not only to establish close contact with another living being but also to show that they have an intelligence out of the ordinary and expected.
This week we are honoring the intelligence and charm of animals! In this day and age, it can be easy for some to forget that animals are not only alive and conscious but also have great intelligence and feelings!
Based on this idea, it is good to emphasize that sharing life with a small animal is an experience that brings more satisfaction than pain. The most powerful fidelity we can count on, from my point of view, is that of a dog. When a dog lives with us, it opens the door for an endless number of communications that allow us to overcome the limits of the "supposedly" normal, because he, without words, has his own language within the family nucleus that adopted him and not only understands the whole mechanism of his family (or pack) of which he is an active participant, but he transforms and enlarges the idea of love with the unconditionality that he demonstrates.
In my particular case, I grew up in a very loving family, but not very pet-friendly. Although, yes, we had a very smart bird for a bird, because before it was considered that birds were not very intelligent. "Gigetto", a name superimposed by us growing children, because for mom and dad it was simply "the jay", although they did consider it important within the family nucleus since they tried to instill responsibility in us, their children, alternating the attention to the bird in matters of food and water.
Since then, I'm talking about forty years ago, we thought that the bird was smart because it recognized us when we came from school and was happy to jump and fly inside its big cage. He loved popsicle ice and he "begged" us with sounds and excitement when we came home with the ice cream and we had to introduce it through the holes of the cage because he did not like the door of his cage to open, he pecked us so that we did not pass our hands, that was his territory and he did not like to share it, even to feed him it was a problem to put his hand to take out the containers of water and food to clean them and put them in the new one twice a day. His favorite food was bread soaked in milk and he needed a slightly larger container of water because he would dive into it to bathe every morning when the water was clean.
He lived for 15 years. My mother told us that my father gave it to her when his first child was born, so he was my older brother's age at the time. His death had to do with the change of the cage. As a birthday present, my dad brought home a beautiful and bigger cage for him. The thing is that he didn't like it because he didn't show any joy in it, he was sad and didn't eat or drink. Understanding that he did not accept the change of cage, dad put him back in his old cage and he was very happy, but he was already weighed down by the discouragement of the days he lived in his new cage because, in those same days, he woke up dead.
In my adult life, I had two dogs in different stages of my life, a very intelligent and empathetic female called Katty who treated me from a "mother" point of view, we were both breedings: me, my first son she wanted as her own and her, more than one litter who cried when she touched the separation by adoption of her puppies. She despaired and sought me out, telling me with her anguished look to defend her children, not to allow them to be taken away from her. It was very sad for me not to be able to intervene when my ex-husband passed to the backyard where she had her puppies to look for one that she would have given up for adoption. There were many of them and we could not keep them, but she fought as she could, hiding them and complained to me, because she was afraid or respected him and accepted his decision to separate them. One day I gave him to breastfeed a boxer puppy that one of my brothers took home because his mother didn't feed him and when the little animal approached to suckle she took him away with her nose politely, but when I asked her to accept him because he was newly born and his mother didn't want him, she looked me straight in the eyes with a lot of love and then she attracted him to her and helped him to take a tit, after that she adopted him as her own until my brother went to look for him.
The other dog in my life that was not just a pet or a companion, but rather a son, was Milan, a golden retriever born on July 18, 2011, that my husband bought me and became part of the family as another member with many rights and few duties, because he was like a beautiful special child, the baby of the house.
Since he landed in our lives he became the star member, although, with a character flaw, he did not like to be left alone, and during the time that everyone went to work or to Uni, he would get depressed and take out his discomfort with the furniture that practically destroyed them, while growing up. Of course, he almost spoke and asked him things and he answered by pointing with his eyes or looking for what one asked him, the affection demanded it if it was not given, looking for one's hand to put it on his head, he loved the caresses and feeling the favorite A spoiled child! He would look for his leash when he wanted to be walked and would get into the car when he wanted to go further. The beach... he loved it!
Milan didn't like other dogs or dog rituals. He did not accept that another dog smelled his tailor that he wanted to take over the territory he considered his own. With people, he was peace and love, he felt himself a person and not a dog. He knew how to fight, he was very strong and he let go of the rope when he saw a threat.
Christmas was the time of year he loved most. He liked Christmas food and was excited about delivering presents on Christmas Eve. He felt like Santa Claus! And there was one year when he posed to be his father's poster child at Steemit.
Milan celebrated his birthday every year and seemed to understand what it was all about.
She was fascinated by cats, her friend, playmate, and even sister was Carlota, the cat that my daughter rescued from the street as an abandoned baby. She adopted Milan as a mother-father-brother because she followed him and defended him tooth and nail when the occasion warranted. They were so connected that when Milan died on August 4, 2019, Carlota attended his funeral on her own and visited his grave for several days.
Now, she was left to reign in the house.
By Zeleira Cordero @zeleiracordero
09/02/2020
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