How Does She Know?

My pal, Chris Bundy, pooh-poohs the intelligence of dogs.  I do not see how he can fairly do this because he does not own a dog.  Here, though, is yet one more piece of evidence of - if not canine's intelligence, at least their tremendous powers of observation and sensitivity to what humans are up to.

I get up earlier than Nancy and write and drink coffee.  Every day during the summer, Zoe would get up with me, at least insofar as she would leave the bedroom and come into where I was and lie down.  This week, she stopped doing that.  The reason, I'm back in school.  How does she know?

I still get up the same time as I always have.  I haven't been dressing differently because it's still pre-planning and the kids haven't arrived back.  The only thing I can imagine is, I've started showering in the morning, but last night I took my shower before going to bed, and even as I write this, Zoe is still enjoying her beauty rest in the bedroom with Nancy rather than joining me in the living room.

I'm sure Zoe doesn't know I've started back to work, she has no more a concept of a job than of quantum mechanics, but somehow she knows I'll be leaving soon, and there's no upside to interrupting her sleep to join me.  If this doesn't represent intelligence, then we humans just have too limited a definition of intelligence, that's all.

Anyway, I've got to sign off now and go to work.

So long, Nancy.  So long, Zoe.