We all are too aware that our kids can exhibit odd and bewildering behavior, but our pets are not to be outdone.  My favorite analogy is the teen who insists you wake them early for school the next day, lulling you into believing they are “starting to mature” and this is a “new and improved chapter of the teenage years.”  You naively comply and tip-toe into their room the next morning to sweetly whisper “rise and shine,” only for your teen to rip of your head head in a fit of rage, breathe dragon fire down the neck of your headless corpse and scream “WHY are you always bothering me and up my ass?!?! LEAVE ME ALONE.” 

By the way, their eyes are glowing red when they say this and their head is swiveling around like an office chair in a tornado, but somehow they are immediately able to fall back into a deep sleep—a talent, really.  

I smile as it reminds me of some schizophrenic cats I’ve met who look up at you innocently, showing you their belly, like a disarmed teddy bear, only to turn on you when you’ve been lured to touch that belly and they then scratch and claw you until your arms look like they’ve been processed through a meat grinder. The cat will then regard you with a mixture of disgust and pity, conveying that you really brought that upon yourself.  In both situations, you find yourself apologizing profusely and are left feeling cold, weak, vulnerable and doubting the goodness of the world.  

There’s a lot of examples of kids doing weird stuff that seems to defy explanation that harkens to unexplained or quirky behavior in our pets too. Neither are always operating with a lot of prefrontal lobe activity or care if you are tired, bleeding or need to use the toilet, so it makes sense.  I am often asked by my friends and my patients’ owners what some of this odd pet behavior means and I always try to give my best scientific explanation.   Sometimes, though, we frankly don’t know why pets (or kids) do what they do and in those cases I mumble something about “more studies are needed!” or throw in a Latin word that sounds smart.  I’ve compiled some of the bizarre and quirky here that’s been shared with me, along with my attempts to explain the animal behavior from a vet’s standpoint. Some of it, however, defies explanation, and simply is just a showcase of the beautifully strange dynamic that exists when humans live in a house with pets. Here is a sampling of some of the more wonderfully strange animals and their behaviors that have been shared with me, accompanied by my vet-splaining of their meaning.

p.s. I cannot begin to explain any of my or your teenager’s behavior, that’s above Dr. Anna’s pay grade, and I would instead direct you to your therapist, life coach or psychic.

Daisy: A Sudoku You Can’t Solve

Daisy is like a wonderfully cute enigma wrapped in a puzzle. 

Now 6 years old, she came to Alicia and her family as a very normal, mischievous puppy who committed dryer theft and stole an untold number of socks and unravelled enough toilet paper rolls to decorate the house with the zeal of a teen boy toilet-papering his crush’s frontyard tree.

Classic Puppy Behavior 101. 

However, Alicia recalls that as she matured, she quickly swapped out her poor puppy behaviors for quirky ones.  As an adult, Daisy clearly communicates when she has to go out by running over to a rug and flipping half of it over.  Some dogs vocalize, simply run and stare at a door or even cleverly ring a bell. 

Not Daisy. 

She feels that clearly the best way to get attention and alert her pee and poo needs are to fold a giant rug in half, an impressive act of interpretive interior design. Alicia also says she almost never barks, except she’ll howl like she’s auditioning for An American Werewolf in Paris whenever they call their oldest son from another part of the house.  And before she eats, her sacred ritual is rubbing her nose on the floor next to her bowl 10-12 times before digging in.  Daisy loves her teenage boys endlessly, obeys her human Dad Will and nimbly rolls her eyes at her human maid Alicia whenever a command is “suggested.”  

What kind of creature is Daisy and what forces came together to produce such this quirky cutie?

To answer this, Alicia says they had a DNA tests that indicate her mom was a husky and her dad was a Shepherd, Boxer, RedBone Coonhound mix, but if the results had come back “silly animal that can play soccer with boys in the yard and moonlights as a cat the rest of the day” they’d be just as accurate.  

I didn’t have the heart to tell Alicia my thoughts on dog DNA tests, which are dubious with varied accuracy, and that she might as well have mixed the money she spent on the test with Daisy’s yard poops and thrown them in the trash.   That being said, “RedBone Coonhound” is a cool thing I intend to throw out in future casual conversation, and at the end of the day, the most important take-home is that Daisy is one unique lady, no matter what her origins.  And it’s pretty clear her family loves every little quirk about her and takes fantastic care of her. 

Hey people, it’s TIME

I love this flipping the rug thing and that it’s not a small mat, it’s a pretty large carpet.  My best guess is that at some point as a puppy, Daisy saw the rug messed up or folded enough times when she was taken out or had pooped that she assumed this is what a folded rug means.  Dogs are creatures of habit and once they hitch onto a correlation, it’s usually a life-long ride.  

The vocalizing whenever only her oldest “brother” is called may be a sign she really identifies with him as a packmate.  Also, don’t we always call the oldest more than any of the others?  I can’t speak for Alicia, but I sort of gave up trying to call out to summon my kids after my first-born. They just don’t respond so it’s a waste of my precious tired breath.  

There can be other reasons, but the rubbing of her nose on the floor before eating is probably her primal instinct to cover and “cache” her food to save it for later, and yet, hey, there’s no one to compete with, so might as well eat it now, right? It’s an act that has lost all meaning, like those British barristers still wearing weird white curly wigs in court, or having the summer off of school so you can help your parents “work the farm.” Daisy likely sees all her human “brothers” as pack-mates, dad Will as her alpha male and Alicia an unpaid personal assistant that she also happens to dearly love.  

Littermates

Staring loyally and somewhat creepily at her alpha master

Roxy: A Case Study of Body Dysmorphia Disorder in Canines

Roxy is a 4 year old boxer who is pure chaos and cuddles, says her human, Stacey. Roxy rejects the theory of personal space (something made up by cats and introverts), believes all beds are for her (has perfected the art of “dog-spreading”), and has no concept of her own size, as all 70 lbs of her will be on you at some point. She shares the house with Stacey and Mike’s three young boys and she takes full advantage of any consumable theft opportunities that naturally come along with living with young dudes, or, as she sees them, walking and talking snack machines that continuously and unconsciously dispense various treats.  She will spring into action for the UPS man, who Roxy seems to believe is her arch-nemesis. Roxy is perplexed why he doesn’t take the hint and keeps trying to attack her family with cardboard boxes. 

Stacey says that despite her antics, she’s the undisputed favorite family member—and she knows it.  She is probably secretly laughing at her humans who are all cuddled up in the fetal position on the cold hardwood floor while her large expanse covers the entirety of the sofa, as they couldn’t bring themselves to disturb her. She just looked so peaceful.

Why are you whimpering and crying? I’m light as a feather.

Here’s one I love–a large breed dog who thinks they are the size of a teacup poodle.  Although ridiculous for a 70 lb dog to think they should be sitting their full weight on your lap, they truly have no concept of their own size.  As puppies, they were quite used to fitting fully (and comfortably for you) on your lap.  The fact they are now exponentially bigger is beyond them in understanding.  The important thing to remember, as they crush you and a slow trickle of internal bleeding begins, is that this signifies their level of comfort and love for you, so really you should take it as a compliment, even if you are unable to breathe.

For some breeds, the protective instinct is high, and for Roxy, this is on level with her desire for sofas and laps.  Boxers were originally working hunting dogs and war dogs and now we’ve morphed them into pampered suburban housepets, but their instincts remain.  The UPS man’s arrival needs to be announced, he needs to be annihilated, and thereby her humans are guarded and saved and she will receive the Medal of Honor.  No matter that he is a 24 year old 110 lb man who still lives with his mom and is bearing a box of Stacey’s Sephora products.  Roxy loves her people and they must be protected at all costs.  

Mercurial Freddie

Tithe, my fellow vet friend, has Freddie, a 1 year old female cat.  She says she was a stray kitten who she found eating a deer carcass on the side of the road and feels that image pretty much explains her crazy nature.  This is not the classic kitten rescue story, no soft mew as it is picked up gently from a cardboard box.  This was a kitten all-out committed to this happenstance gift of rotting venison, like a miniature lioness of the Serengeti.  Tithe was immediately smitten at this display and thought: Yes, I will bring you into my home, little one.  I make excellent choices.

Since then Freddie has blossomed into a domestic lunatic in her new interior environment.  She drools excessively while being pet and does what Tithe describes as “splooting” any chance she gets.  

For those not in the know, splooting does not mean seizuring/peeing/pooping at the same time.  

It is when an animal lays on its belly and extends its legs out behind it, something humans tend to do when they have overimbibed or are dying from a gunshot wound. In some parts of the country and depending on your level of sophistication, it might also be known as “frogging” or “pancaking.”

I am obsessed with this image of a little black and white kitten going to town on a dead deer: pure opportunistic food consumption for an animal living in the wild.  Given the need, cats’ survival instincts emerge and they take what they can get, even if it’s not organic cat food in a crystal chalice.  

The drooling is a pretty cool one to attempt deciphering.  It’s often seen as a sign of relaxation if it’s happening during some pleasant experience (although in other situations could indicate nausea or a problem in their oral cavity).  Sometimes this is accompanied by them “kneading their paws,” aka makin’ muffins, as this is hearkening back to when they were kittens and using their paws to help stimulate milk from their mom’s mammary glands during nursing.  Drooling can happen simultaneously, in anticipation of and/or aiding in the first part of digestion of the milk.  It’s basically a sign of happiness in this case. Their mouth is relaxed, possibly their motor is going (purring) and they are producing more saliva as a contentment response.  She is saying, “Human, this is nice.  You’re doing great.  More action on the chin please.” 

In thinking again about our human teen behavior, it comforts me to think that when my kids drool while scrolling on their phone, perhaps it’s just that they are at their own pinnacle of happiness and not just that their brains have turned into a thin consummé.

Freddie definitely seems relaxed in the home environment Tithe has provided for her and her idiosyncratic postures are most likely due to that. Occasionally it’s due to wanting to cool themselves down on a cold surface, but since Tithe’s a vet, I’m certain she always keeps her house the exact perfect temp for her pets at all times, just like me <rueful laugh>.  It’s also possible that since her origins before their introduction over a deer carcass are unknown to Tithe, Freddie could have had some mild trauma or congenital issue that makes her “sploot.” 

But the most likely reason is simply that she’s just a real happy camper.

Sexy paw, in reverse

Lazy Daisy (yes, a different Daisy)

Diane, her dog mom, says that she is 7 years young (meaning that while deep down she truly no longer believes the vacuum cleaner is out to kill her, she isn’t fully ready to give up the fun game of attacking it) and prefers the company of little dogs and humans. When there is snow on the ground and cold temperatures, that’s when she thrives, bouncing around like a cute little curly-haired polar wolf. When the summer sun comes, she’s less enthused, and faints into the shrubs, like a southern belle overcome by heat and scandalous gossip. Diane says Daisy is not a swimmer (what southern belle was ever known to be?) but at the beach she loves to dig holes.  She will bury her tennis ball repeatedly and seems shocked and surprised when she finds it over and over again, like an archeologist coming upon the Dead Sea Scrolls for the one-millionth time.  Like Roxy, she likes to let it all hang out on the couch and stays in the front window all day “protecting” her family from Amazon and Chewy deliveries. Unlike Roxy, she is often found sleeping on the job, unconcerned with the threat of any “intruder.” Diane says that despite her slacker tendencies, she gives her family a lot of love and she gets a lot of love in return. This is a case of what I call “reverse wolf.”  We still see a whole host of vestigial instinctual behaviors that have remained as our dogs evolved long ago from wolves. However, our domesticated dogs can feel so relaxed and safe in their environment, that their protective reactions sometimes aren’t expressed.  There is also some degree of learned behavior here, where Daisy being a smarty pants poodle breed, has figured out that the Amazon and Chewy guys actually bring pretty cool stuff and there’s no need to raise a fuss.  Either way, her life sounds pretty amazing, and she will be the first to tell you: she’s not lazy, she’s evolved.  Her digging then re-digging her ball at the beach is dog self-play at its best.  Repeating something over and over again that has brought you joy seems like a no-brainer and perhaps Daisy has discovered the true meaning of life.  We stupid humans are always seeking something new (our next hobby, electronic device, or our latest reason not to work out), and yet maybe we just need to repeat the same wonderful things over and over again to derive true happiness.  There’s also the instinct of food burial to save/bogart for later (remember other Daisy and her nose rubbing to cache her food?) and the glitch in the brain that says Later is Now and why don’t I just dig this back up?  Some might call this “instinctual play,” or “self-reinforcing behavior,” but I personally think “eternal existential hope” could also apply. 

Vesper: The Case of the Confused Cat

Vesper is my sister Mackenzie’s cat.  She’s a 9 year old tuxedo kitty similar to Freddie but has that little black spot on her nose that make her what some have called a “Hitler Kitty.”  I’m not such a fan of this term so I instead call them “Charlie Chaplin Cats,” which has a funny and non-genocidal feel.  Mac likes to think Vesper can “speak” to other animals because she sits in the window and makes chirping noises to birds and squirrels she sees.  When she’s pet on the head, she immediately shoves her little butt in the air and turns it towards whomever is showering the affection. She will also sneak up on my sister when she’s on the couch and play with her hair, raking her claws through it, like a little Edward Scissorhands.  My sis also says she seems to consider herself “one of the dogs,” as you often find her cuddled up with her canine housemates.  

Because Mac is my sister, I can immediately make fun of her and not have to nod and pretend she might have the Dr. Dolittle of the cat world living in her home.  Instead of wanting to discuss the weather with these birds and squirrels, Vesper desperately wants to eat them.  The chirping, while a similar sound to the noises these potential prey make, is a common excited vocalization when cats are hunting or even frustrated over an inability to reach their tasty target.  Now I can’t make my sis feel too bad here, because there is some thought that the chirping or chattering cats do when they see birds or squirrels could be a kind of mimicry to entice the prey to come closer.  But the end result is not to have a long talk with them over tea, but instead to kill and ravage their little bodies.  

The butt to the face action?  This is actually quite a compliment and not a situation of “you don’t know your head from your ass.”  By directing their rear to you, they are releasing pheromones from their anal glands that are bonding you for life and is a sign of their trust and affection.  It’s another odd way they say hey, I like you and claim you as my own by donning my scent onto you, you weird looking two-legged naked cat that speaks weird words and stupidly eats lettuce and stares at a small black rectangle all day…let’s be buddies forever.  Drooling and anal scent spraying, cats really know how to make friends.  

The hair-play is an extension of a kitten playing with a ball of string.  Any kind of string object can spark a cat’s hunting instinct, as it resembles the tail of a typical prey animal.  In their little brain, the cat is saying “String Means Tail, Now Pounce!” Although thought to be more of a kitten in-training-for-life action, this is something we see cats do their whole lives, as many who are strictly indoors don’t have the option to hunt (unless you live in relative squalor).  I have lectured my sister about making sure to never have yarn or any kind of string or yarn around the house, since it’s not uncommon for cats to ingest it in the act of playing and then end up with a serious intestinal obstruction from it (something called a linear foreign body that can cause a scary bunching up of intestines as it tries to move through the gut). Consequently, Vesper is trying to practice her tail pouncing the only way she can–by making do with my sister’s strands of hair.  

As for the identity crisis relating to thinking she is a dog, it is more likely that she does recognize she is different from them and any communing is due to the development of a social group.  As the joke goes, what does a cat call a smart dog?…Answer: a cat.  Due to differences in scents, behaviors and ways they communicate, Vesper almost certainly knows she is not one of those large drooling idiots, but will certainly take advantage of their body warmth whenever possible.  

Shea: You’re so vain, you probably think this article is about you…

She’s kind of right.  Shea, a 13 year old Lab mix, was a bit of the inspiration for me delving into some weird pet behaviors.  Her pet mom Alicia (yes, a different Alicia) started sending me photos of Shea a few years ago to show me how much Shea loves to look at herself in the mirror.  In fact, she will sit there for hours at a time and just stare.  It seemed to please her so much that Alicia ended up indulging her by putting several floor length mirrors around the house.  Now Shea is in her golden years but feels she’s still got it! and continues to enjoy looking upon her own countenance like she’s the star of her own Maybelline ad. 

Hey good lookin’…

This one is super interesting.  There’s something called a Mirror Recognition Test (MRT) which is supposed to indicate self-awareness.  Scientists have proctored this test on many different animals and have shown great apes, elephants, dolphins and orcas and even some birds are able to pass it. However, dogs’ results of this test have been embarrassingly disappointing.  It’s done by placing a color mark on the animal and then seeing if the animal sees this mark in the mirror and tries to investigate its presence.  Dogs have always gotten a big fat F on this test and therefore it’s been assumed they aren’t really seeing themselves in mirrors and don’t understand what they are looking at.  However, as sight is perhaps a dog’s weakest sense, some out-of-the-(litter)-box thinkers, biologist Marc Bekoff and canine cognition researcher Alexnadra Horowitz, decided to use smell instead to see if they could recognize themselves as separate from others. These tests used canisters of odors, and results showed dogs could distinguish their own odor from that of other dogs, a kind of “olfactory mirror.”  Additional research that came out in Scientific Reports (by Rita Lenkei in 2021) has shown that dogs do have awareness of their own body and can recognize it as a physical obstacle (maybe someone needs to tell Roxy from earlier about this study). I have a hard time not believing that Shea is aware of her own body in the mirror’s reflection.  She may not understand how it’s there, but I love the idea that she is comforted by her own image and maybe even thinks she still looks pretty hot, even after all these years.  After all, it’s trending these days to stop the dye jobs and let your white hairs show.

Here are some very silly things my own pets have done:

Standing on a small desk for no apparent reason other than to possibly announce that Armageddon is upon us. (Bill Nye the Science Dog).

Deciding that a bowl or hat are perfect places to curl up (Kristopher Kringle).  Cats are drawn to cozy spots that hug their curves and make them feel secure, like me after a big meal asking my husband to spoon me.

Our piglet Ted mistaking our big fat Labrador Hampy as his giant sow of a mom.  Thank the lord Teddums did not attempt nursing.  

Our dearly departed black Lab mix, Welly, sitting outside in the yard with our fat yellow Lab Hampy and carefully and methodically licking Hampy’s asshole for hours at a time. While vomit-inducing, this is actually likely to be an act of bonding and love signaling. I’m taking care of your poopshoot, thereby showing my affection. It could also be a sign of deference, meaning that Welly thought of Hampy as the alpha dude of the group, an idea that annoys me because we all know that Welly was simply much smarter and better behaved than our doofus Hampy. 

My OG dog labrador mix Philip, also since passed but never forgotten, loved to chase his tail (usually something puppies do as they get to know their bodies, then continue to do into adulthood because we clap and laugh like idiots when they do it), bark at and throw orange peels in the air with his mouth (citrus is generally repellent to dogs and oranges can make them feel sick) and liked to try to hump small kids at the park, but only when they were wearing karate uniforms.  All mostly explainable quirks (except the last one which was always embarrassing and forced swift exits from the park) but all together made him a unique individual to me.

We still have so much to learn about our four-legged friends and how they see the world and us.  We want to attribute human traits to them to feel more bonded and sometimes end up with ridiculous anthropomorphic assumptions.  However, we know the deep connections we forge with them and their sometimes astounding ability to intuit and learn. They can be silly and make us laugh with pure, unabashed joy, or make us say what the fuck? and wonder if they are playing with a full deck.  They have instincts, just as we do, but also have capacity for understanding and awareness of self versus “other” and for love.  And that’s more than I can say for most teenagers.