Bandit was my black and white, longhaired, one hundred percent house cat who was not permitted outside unless under supervision.
I was often in and out of the house, running to and from my parent's house, and I'd often take him up with me, or else I'd take him out on a leash while I fiddled with my flowerbed. Every time I
picked up my keys, Bandit would run, meowing crazily, to the door, expecting to go with me. Of course, many times I'd have to tell him no and he'd just sit and pout.
On one occasion I was washing the dishes, and I thought to myself that as soon as I finished the dishes I'd go up and see my parents, and I'd bring Bandit along. As soon as that thought went
through my mind, Bandit came rushing out of the bedroom where he'd been snoozing and ran to the door, meowing and prancing impatiently, just as if I'd picked up my keys and walked to the door. My hands were in
the dishwater, my keys in my back pocket. The little dear, I'm certain, had read my mind.
This happened on at least two other occasions that I can be absolutely certain that I gave no clues that I was planning on taking him out.
Unfortunately, Bandit passed away a few years ago. I'm now waiting to see if our new pussycat, Purduh, will show any amazing traits.
"J," I will just bet that Purduh will show the same unusual talent because you are a parent who listens to your babies. I am sorry that your Bandit is gone but you will see him again in a little
yellow fuzz ball. Please let me know.