Oh, It's a Guilt Trip, Is It?

There's been a lot of manipulation around our house lately.  And I don't mean between the humans.  Oh, no.  It's the four-legged critters who have been putting on their best guilt faces.  And you know what?  It works every time. 

Indiana is, well, Indy.  When you've battled cancer...twice...and won, you get pretty much whatever you want.

Isis has a new obsession with running.  Jim started running with her several months ago in an effort to get her into shape.  She's always been a horrible walker (she loves to stop and sniff every two feet, plus she has weird rules about where she will and won't walk--if you try to force the issue, she lays all 60 of her pounds down in the middle of the road.)  But surprisingly, she's a good runner.  And she loves it.  Fairly frequently, she sees Jim getting on his workout gear and is convinced they're going running, even if Jim only intends to work out in the house.  But when faced with such unbridled enthusiasm, and an, "Oh, Jim..." from me, Isis wins every time.

Mr. Squiggles, like Indiana, has a built in guilt-trip excuse--when you reappear after being missing for over a year, you want for very little.  But still, he has a trick that gets us every time.  Stage One of his trick is an expectant, very quiet meow, complete with an intense, expectant stare.  This trick means he wants you to sit down on the couch so he can snuggle with you.  Stage Two of the trick, from which we have no immunity, involves the quiet meow along with him standing up on his back legs, pawing at your legs as desperately as he can.  I'm pretty sure I'd commit a crime, if that's what he was asking for.

Gus doesn't really pile on guilt, per se, but he's got the whole disability thing that makes him impossible to resist.  Plus, he takes what he wants.  So if he wants to lay on your lap, you sit there until he's done.

Samson's trick is really handy, as it's what got him adopted by us in the first place.  Samson, like every Maine Coon, is very smart and very dexterous with his hands.  So when he wants something, he reaches his huge paw out to get it.  This includes people most of the time.  Who can resist 15 pounds of cat reaching out and lovingly placing a paw on your arm?  I sure can't.

Q*bert is newest to the household and therefore less equipped with guilt trips.  He's not sick/disabled/previously missing, so those tricks are out.  He's also not super smart, but honestly, that's what wins us over most of the time.  He's so...ummm...simple, that we can't resist him when he wants something.  His needs are so simple, basically food and an occasional lap, so who are we to say no?  Bless his heart.

Though he doesn't live in our house, Cimba has tricks of his own too.  I don't ignore him often, but sometimes I will walk away from his stall to pet another horse, and this makes him mad.  I'm his Mom, after all.  Most of the time, if he's craving attention, and some other horse is getting it, I'll hear a stern smack against his stall wall, and I'll turn around to see a very annoyed horse staring me down.  Flared nostrils, perked ears, and the brightest, sweetest eyes you've ever seen on a horse.  I am powerless against him.

Society has the idea that humankind is smarter and superior to the animal race.  Looking at all of this, though, I often wonder.