Pettigrew knows the days of the week. At least he seems to have a handle on when Friday mornings roll around. How do I know?
Every morning Pettigrew and I head out for a walk. Then he breaks his fast. Core needs met, he settles in for a day of snoozing and guarding the house from threats real and existential. He doesn’t go out again until late afternoon, except for a few trips into the back yard to soak up some rays or to scratch against a tree.
But Friday mornings I go for a second walk with friends. Pettigrew has figured this out and on Fridays he doesn’t settle down after breakfast. He stays on alert, ready to go at a moment’s notice.
How can he tell the difference between my heading out for work and heading out to meet my friends for a walk? I don’t know. But he can. He does. And he always comes with us. I have tolerant friends.
Clearly Pettigrew is counting. How else would he know it’s Friday?
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This week Pettigrew had his annual physical and revealed yet another layer of his uncanny understanding. It was a two-hour ordeal, door-to-door, and Pettigrew and I were both exhausted.
But before we could go home, Pettigrew needed to provide a urine sample. Pettigrew is not a fan of providing urine samples, see When Pettigrew Put His Foot Down.
We walked and walked. Pettigrew, The Dog Who Marks Everything, kept up a steady pace, hardly stopping at all. I moved quickly when he did, but I was only able to collect a few drops.
Eventually Pettigrew turned. I assumed he was heading for our car and home.
But no, he led me straight to the vet’s entrance.
I ask you, how many dogs would have been able to suss out that we weren’t leaving until we returned that collection cup? And you know what, those drops just made the threshold the vet needed.
What can I say…an amazing dog.