cognitivists .... There is a shift towards exploring emotions and affects- thanks god- and animals are well equipped in that domain. Empathy, imo, is another kind of consciousness. Our ancient brain the one we share with other mammal and animals cause us troubles but there is the core of our humanness too... maybe I exaggerate a bit but I don't like to think we are just an intelligent computer.
My hammie, Tobias is joining the ranks here as the 16UN Hamster. The divination was cast twice and with the help of my Clarity friends, I was able to find my lost fuzzy chicken nugget! Thank you all!Clarity,
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cat eldercare
Even after being regularly fed, the cat continued to hunt actively. I had never before seen such a hardworking cat. Each morning I would see it marching around the inner perimeter of the yard, and it spent hours each day hunting in an edging of mondo grass, apparently rodents' preferred habitat. It would spend much time standing up on two legs to peer over the mondo grass. My late mother was beginning to vegetate, and I could get her to do nothing. She spent hours watching the cat work in the back yard, and one day while she was having lunch she asked to me to let Kitty (thus the name) into the house. I was somewhat concerned about this because the cat was still half-wild, but I finally got it to come inside and went about my chores. When I returned to the house, my mother was eating out of one side of her plate, and Kitty was one the table eating from the other side. Kitty had discovered a new human friend. She soon learned that she could jump onto the window sill next to my mother's chair, do a little dance, then turn her head and smile, and my mother would proclaim, "Kitty needs to come in!" jump from her chair, and let Kitty into the house. Mind, I could get this vegetating elderly person to do nothing, and Kitty with a little prancing and a smile got exactly what was needed. After being let in, Kitty would be fed. "Kitty wants to be fed every time she comes in," I was told, and a heap of cat food was poured into Kitty's pan. (When no one was looking I poured most of it back into the bag.) After Kitty was fed, mother would beg and plead until Kitty hopped into her lap. She held the cat, rocked the cat, sang to the cat. The cat would look at me and grin, meaning "See how favored I am?" The cat functioned as a hearing aid since mother could tell by the cat's ears and head where there was activity. "Oh, Tommy is in the utility room!" "Oh, Tommy has gone upstairs!" "Oh, Tommy is at the stove!" The cat would sit in her lap for hours each day. Kitty brightened the last years of her life, and in my opinion added at least a year to her life.
Even after being regularly fed, the cat continued to hunt actively. I had never before seen such a hardworking cat. Each morning I would see it marching around the inner perimeter of the yard, and it spent hours each day hunting in an edging of mondo grass, apparently rodents' preferred habitat. It would spend much time standing up on two legs to peer over the mondo grass. My late mother was beginning to vegetate, and I could get her to do nothing. She spent hours watching the cat work in the back yard, and one day while she was having lunch she asked to me to let Kitty (thus the name) into the house. I was somewhat concerned about this because the cat was still half-wild, but I finally got it to come inside and went about my chores. When I returned to the house, my mother was eating out of one side of her plate, and Kitty was one the table eating from the other side. Kitty had discovered a new human friend. She soon learned that she could jump onto the window sill next to my mother's chair, do a little dance, then turn her head and smile, and my mother would proclaim, "Kitty needs to come in!" jump from her chair, and let Kitty into the house. Mind, I could get this vegetating elderly person to do nothing, and Kitty with a little prancing and a smile got exactly what was needed. After being let in, Kitty would be fed. "Kitty wants to be fed every time she comes in," I was told, and a heap of cat food was poured into Kitty's pan. (When no one was looking I poured most of it back into the bag.) After Kitty was fed, mother would beg and plead until Kitty hopped into her lap. She held the cat, rocked the cat, sang to the cat. The cat would look at me and grin, meaning "See how favored I am?" The cat functioned as a hearing aid since mother could tell by the cat's ears and head where there was activity. "Oh, Tommy is in the utility room!" "Oh, Tommy has gone upstairs!" "Oh, Tommy is at the stove!" The cat would sit in her lap for hours each day. Kitty brightened the last years of her life, and in my opinion added at least a year to her life.