Dogs are kinda interesting at times.  Not often in my books but definitely now and then.

We put Fid and Meg in the car a few days ago and then drove south for six or so hours to enjoy Christmas with the family.  They travel by sleeping in the back seat.  At the end of the trip, in the dark, while they were supposedly ‘dreaming’, we began the final approach to Sal’s parents house.  I’d say we were about a mile and a half, maybe two, away from the house when Fid perked up from the backseat.  I have no idea what prompted it.

He pressed his face against the window, sniffed a few times and stayed at ‘alert’ for the next five or so minutes.  It was pitch black out and raining.  He couldn’t see a thing.  I doubt that he could smell very much either (the windows were up, the car was full of junk/food/bodies and the heater in the car was on).  But Meg got the message as well and the two of them were on high alert as we pulled into Sally’s parent’s yard.  They knew precisely where were were and they knew it when we were almost two miles away.  It was sensory restricted, hundreds of miles from home and we only visit there now and then.  But they knew.

That is kinda neat.

As I said, we had been away for a few days and we arrived at our last stage of travel getting home to a bit of a blow.  A pretty strong Sou’easter was slapping at our neck o’ the woods.  Our boat had been earlier-in-the-day left at the dock by our neighbour and we loaded it up and piled in.

In synch were three other neighbours who had arrived by way of the same ferry.  Not a lot of time was spent passing pleasantries.   It was just too blustery to linger.  The sea was ‘whispy’ with spindrift and we all headed off in different directions but straight for home and as quickly as the seas would allow.

"Welcome back!"

When we got here the ravens were on the railing shrieking at us.  They knew we were on our way home.  Had they recognized us from two miles away?  Had they just been hanging around?  Did they have a copy of our itinerary?  How is that possible?

It is equally as interesting to me that they both shrieked at us until I shrieked back.  A few ‘caws’ were exchanged between the three of us (Sal won’t caw) and then they took off.  We had been welcomed and then, I guess because of the weather, they wanted to get home, too.  They had done their duty.  Pleasantries made.  And they were gone.

I know that this is on the edge of anthropomorphizing and I think that kind of thing is just silly.  On the other hand, it is not really anthropomorphizing because your average human being couldn’t have done the same things.  Really.  Unless you had driven the route and seen the landmarks, you wouldn’t recognize where we were in the dark and in the rain two miles away from where we ended up at Sal’s parent’s house.  The dogs knew.

And I can’t tell you how many friends of mine simply can’t be on time for an appointment even with a calendar, a digital watch and a reminder phone call to help them.  The ravens were.

Ravens and dogs.  Does it get any better?