So. My parent used to have a dachshund named Tootsie. Towards the end, she was blind as a bat and going just as deaf. (Though that may have been selective.)
Like that last weekend before they took her to the vet for the whole “we think she’s gone fully blind,” thing, I had made carnitas tacos. It’s a fan favorite. People were walking into the living room to watch whatever was on (football?).
Any how, nephew bumps my dad, dad drops a bit of carnitas.
Tootsie, who was chilling by the fire place went from dozy dog to rug shark scarfing up the bit before it ever hit the floor,
This is her- and one of my last photos of her being all “Hai!!!”
I swear my male cat can hear the difference between me pouring myself a glass of milk and any other liquid. I have seen his fat one-eyed ass be fulling asleep in the window to trundling over and meowing for milk. He is the only cat in the house that seems to like milk, so it’s his special once a week treat.
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She was!
She had a thing for toes- to be fair it’s about all she couldn’t reach, so if anyone ever got down on her level she was sure to say hello.
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Yo, same with my cats.
