Cows and crows are great judges of genius; you can take my word for it. I have sat under trees scribbling my nonsense, and in the middle of open fields attempting to place in paint the indescribable beauties of nature. Ever alert, the eyes of cows and/or crows have often sat in judgement.
We all have a sense of personality; a lingering feeling about a person, though not specific. Often you remember that they were either good or bad, but can’t remember why. What sensory perception triggers memory? Is it sound, sight, smell, or perhaps the waft of a soft afternoon breeze. The afternoon breeze puts me comfortingly back into the bed of a much loved aunt while taking an after-lunch nap together. Do the cows and crows depend upon the same sense of perception?
When entering my garden while Henry and his pals are testing out the birdbath, do they know my face? In walking past the open field, when several cows look up in unison from their eternal munching, is it the sound of my boots on the gravel, or the motion of my passing that attracts them? I find it endlessly fascinating to believe these creatures of Nature recognize and accept me for what I am, as I accept and appreciate their attention.
I often wonder if the thin veil between the animal world and us will ever be shorn. Meanwhile, we anthropomorphize our relationships with these amazing creatures, which pleases us no end.
Who can explain the thrill of discovery we feel when a small yellow horse in a corral containing several others, looks up at the sound of his name being called?
“My Beau” original watercolor painting by kayti sweetland rasmussen
The thing about moments–once they are gone, they’re gone forever.
Pachofa-Unfinished 
I think Rupert Sheldrake is definitely on to something in how we and other animals communicate. http://www.sheldrake.org/
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Very interesting link. We have much to learn.
Welcome home! And you may prune your roses now! We have no snow here.
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Such is life.
It is all nought but the memory of those moments that are gone, Katy …
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Our memories extend much further than those of our animal friends for good or ill. I think of them as precious attributes to our humanity. Where would we be without our memories?
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We wouldn’t exist.
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The watercolor is delightful, Kayti. And how interesting that the horse is the one gazing out at the world, straightforwardly, with an attentiveness that often surpasses that displayed by those we spend our time with.
As for the cows and crows — of course they communicate, and of course they recognize us. A small example. Every year, about September, my blue jays disappear. They’re just gone, and their now-grown babies with them.
But every year, usually in January, they come back. Two weeks ago, I heard the first one call. I got up to go to the refrigerator and get a handful of shelled pecans, just in case. While I still was at the refrigerator, I heard a sharp noise. There was a blue jay, pecking at the window next to my computer. I took the pecans out, he called to his friends, and within minutes I had four of them on my railing.
They’re coming sporadically now, but I’ll know when the eggs are laid and the babies hatched, because the back-and-forth will be constant, and the grocery bill for the household will go up a bit for a month or two.
When they aren’t here, I remember them. But just as clearly, they remember me. Well, or my pecans. I don’t flatter myself that they’re after conversation.
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Marvelous story about the blue jays! Just marvelous.
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What fun to have your own little blue jay community! I think Henry and his friends or a wishful thinking hawk who cruises frequently have discouraged all my jays. I haven’t seen one for quite awhile.
You may remember that crow IQ test I posted some time ago which proved without a doubt how clever the little fellows are. We can all use a few more friends, even if they are covered with feathers, so don’t run out of pecans.
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What beautiful words…and thoughts especially the concept of the “thin veil.” That thin veil seemed to lift often in the quiet of my home with my beloved Berkley who passed away in October. I think I’ve told you about him before, Kayti, my older Westie. Anyway, we understood each other perfectly.
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A pet is often more than just a pet. I do understand how very sad you feel in losing Berkley. I still mourn the passing of German Shepherd Liza years ago, even though there have been a number of lovely dogs in the meantime, though none with her loyalty and deep understanding and sensitivity. Charlie is a joyous and rambunctious complement to our family, but at eight, he is just beginning to settle down.
My condolences again for your loss.
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Yes, anyone who has looked deep into the eyes of animals know that they understand far more than we give credit ofr. After a few days away we picked up Milo from the kennel. He just rested his head against me while driving home (un-restrained). We had missed each other and he knew it too.
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Charlie spent a day at his “hotel” this week and when we picked him up he was subdued and cuddly too. Most times he doesn’t give us a second look while on his was out the door. They really do miss us when they are away I think, though with Charlie’s history of investigating the neighborhood on his own, he clearly thinks he knows best.
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Are they gone? They’re here now. Great, thoughtful post x
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Moments and memory—-we can always dredge them up at will, the good ones and the not-so-good. ooxx
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The moments are gone, but I am often surprised by the vividness of long ago memories, and the depth of feeling that is still attached to them. Lovely post, Kayti.
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One of the surprising things about memory is its arbitrary quality. As we grow older, we tend to remember things differently. Dr. Advice will adamantly believe in a specific occasion as occurring in a certain way while I “know” it did not. It’s sometimes easier to let them believe it their way.
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I grew up on a small farm, and we had a herd of cows. 10 moms that had 10 babies every spring. I used to love to watch them all, moms and babies, run from one end of the field to the other, for the sheer joy of spring time and being young and frisky. They are so much more intelligent than we give them credit for. I don’t care what scientists say – anyone who has pets knows that animals are much smarter than generally given credit for.
Do you know cows arrange babysitters in large fields?
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I didn’t know that! But I’ve watched the innate mother/child connection in all manner of animals, pets and farm. An interesting mystery is why occasionally a sheep will refuse her newborn lamb and push it away. What do you suppose causes her to choose one baby over another right after birth? I suppose there is a correlation within humans now and then .
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