Getting a different point of view is always interesting and sometimes just plain enlightening. I have a house guest. His name is “Okie” and he’s a Scottie. Okie’s a mature gentleman, reserved and gentle in his style and actions. His wiry black coat looks like it would serve as a great scrub brush. His head seems two sizes too large for his body and his legs three sizes too short. But in that wiry haired head resides a sharp brain, with different outlooks on life and how to approach it. And, he’s taught me a few lessons. I’ll explain.
The Geezer served breakfast to us a couple mornings ago. I sprung into action, ready to devour the feast in as few gulps as possible. As I started, Okie said, “Lassie, whoa! Slow down! You’re going to give your humans the opinion that you’re satisfied with what you’re being served. Pick around a wee bit. Look sad and disgusted simultaneously.”
“Why should I do that? I like what they feed me.”
Okie grinned. “Observe,” he said. I watched him walk around his bowl a time or two, sniff it disgustedly and wander off a few steps. He looked up at the Geezer, his face saying “Is this the best you can do, laddie?”
“What’s wrong pup? Don’t like what you’ve got in your bowl?” The Geezer bent over and examined the dry hard pellets. “Want a little water on it?”
Okie whispered to me, “Sandy, watch this, me fair lassie.” He bounced around in a tight circle, made some joyful ‘woofs,’ and looked expectant.
The Geezer disappeared, but quickly returned carrying a glass of water. “Here you go.” He poured the water over the food.
Through his shaggy eyebrows, the Scottie winked at me. He approached the bowl, made a cautious nibble, and backed away as if he’d been slapped. He sat on his haunches and lifted his lashes so the Geezer could see his mournful eyes that radiated disappointment.
“Hmmmm, that’s what I was told you like. What’s wrong, boy?” The Geezer is eager to please.
I watched, fascinated, as Okie led the Geezer to the stove, did his circle dance, repeated his woofs and waited for results.
“Oh, I get it.” The Geezer returned to the dish, bent over, and hoisted it out of sight. I heard the microwave door shut, its buzzing while it nuked the food, and watched the old man place the heated offering in front of my friend. Okie immediately did an instant replay of his rejection scene that would have satisfied the director of a TV football show. Okie paraded back to the stove and looked at the refrigerator. He continued his back and forth viewing until the Geezer ‘got it.’
“Okay, okay.” The Geezer opened the fridge, poked around for a few seconds, before he removed a package. The smell floating down told me they were luscious hot dogs. “I guess you want these heated, too.” The microwave purred again and soon three neatly diced hotdogs were sprinkled on top of Okie’s and my breakfast.
As soon as the Geezer disappeared Okie said, “Sandy, me lass, enjoy your breakfast with me complements.” I began my morning gulping with profound admiration for my house guest.
When I finished I said, “Wow, Okie that was fantastic. I’m really taking notes from you. You can teach me a lot.”
“T’was nothing.” The Scottie beamed as he rolled the last of his hot dog on his tongue before disposing of it with a satisfied slurp. “Your human is a tad slow-witted. Normally, I get to the goodies in one less step.”
“Oh, not at all. Today hot dogs, tomorrow Porterhouse!”
“Okie, is the source of your intelligence inherited?”
“Aye, Sandy lass, ’tis in the blood lines…and from reading lots of George Bernard Shaw.”