San Francisco Chronicle - (Sunday)
WHAT MY PET IS DOING NOW
Taking your Zoom calls in your pajamas? So am I. Opening the fridge 10 times a day to see if anything has changed? Me too.
You know who doesn’t care, and will love you no matter what you look, dress and smell like? Your pets.
While I might be sick and tired of being surrounded by family all day, my new co-worker (an 80-pound yellow labrador retriever named Bvlgari) is thriving. I have spent more time with him in the past two months than I have since we got him eight years ago. My new co-worker also ate my Apple pencil, a block of cheese and a bag of tortillas all in one week ... but that’s beside the point.
Everyone in my household eats dinner together, but for lunch and breakfast, we are all on our own schedule. For Bvlgari, that means he gets to vacuum food scraps off the kitchen floor five times a day. Lucky for him, all the quarantine weight that he gains from eating, he loses each time someone in my house decides they need “alone time” and takes him on a walk. Can’t say the same for myself.
As we adapt to a new strange and rather stagnant lifestyle, our pets are changing their routines as well. So we asked our online readers what their pets have been up to during this pandemic — because the only thing better than writing about pets is reading about them. We received scores of entertaining anecdotes. From a camping cat to a cooing crow, here are some of our favorite responses (edited for length and clarity). You’re welcome!
My partner and I are watching more TV than ever before and often leave it on all day, albeit muted, as we work from home. Our dog, Otto, a 12-pound Maltese-poodle mix, has memorized all the commercials with animal characters. At the first glimpse of a familiar opening scene or initial notes of a jingle, he immediately lunges at the TV and barks at the “intruders.” It was funny at first but now it has become maddening.
— James Pincow, Kite Hill, San Francisco
One of our cats, Luna Puff, has gotten sick of us and has learned how to make a tent out of a towel draped over our patio furniture. I swear she was “camping” for two weeks straight. We barely saw her.
— Danielle Farinacci, Lower Haight, San Francisco
for crows. Researchers have documented how they remember faces, hold grudges and leave shiny objects for a few well-chosen friends. I have had a dog since 2000, and I always walk with cookies in my pocket. The local crows always caw and cackle when they see us walking. They’ve gathered on utility poles and wires over my driveway, teaching me to throw them a few cookies at the end of our walk. Until the pandemic . ... First, we began to notice a really big crow swoop in over my shoulder and land on a tree limb as we rounded the corner. She did this until we reached the driveway and I tossed her some cookies. I have an office in the backyard. I leave the door open to hear all the bird songs. We have fruit trees right outside. One day, I heard this really weird electronic sound. A couple notes. Is my wife in the patio experimenting with AutoTune? A few days later, I heard it again. I go out this time and I see the big sleek crow on a branch. She doesn’t even open her beak. She makes the sound deep in her throat. It sounds like she’s saying “maw eee maw.” It’s a soft and shockingly sweet sound. And she’s using it to literally call me out of my writing studio. And, of course, I come right out and put some dog cookies on a lower branch for her. We have gotten into a routine. She sees me walk my dog and accompanies us home. She gets hungry in the afternoon and alights on the peach tree and calls: “Maw eee maw.” Quiet. Like a cooing sound. I love her. Her name, obviously, is Maw E. Maw. And she’s my crow.
— Barbara Tannenbaum, San Rafael
Clara, an expensive collar that tracks her location and counts her steps. We just wanted to keep her safe, but it turned into something else. The app associated with the collar allows you to compete with other dog owners for daily steps and miles. Because I’m unemployed (thanks, COVID-19), she made it to No. 1 of all golden retrievers in the world for daily steps. She averages about 10 miles a day of needless walking with her jobless mother. But really, this is not the New Year’s resolution I had in mind. Ironically, she gained 10 pounds, along with us, and we aren’t sure why.
— Rena Silverman, Russian Hill, San Franciscio
from home, my 10-year-old rescue dog, Bailey, will sleep pretty much all day. At 5 o’clock, however, he goes into a tizzy! He’ll toss his toy towards me wanting to play fetch and will playfully bark, growl, run in circles and go into his “play stance” until I give him attention. It would bother me if he did it all day, but the fact that he waits until 5 p.m. when I’m off work is quite cute, I think.
— Allison Maxie, San Bruno