I can't remember when I began to wonder what my animal friends were thinking. As a child—growing up with Boots, a mixed "shepherd," I assumed she knew who she was and what she wanted to do with herself. I took her sniffing for granted, without questioning why she did it so much.
Forty Years with Birds and Dogs
It took only three times for the scrub jay to get it. I whistles three times then set out unsalted peanut behind the rock that we had used before the squirrels took over the bird feeder, emptying it at every visit. Now the jays get their treasures to bury on demand. Stories about animal interactions and smarts continues in the
LA Daily Post