RUMORS OF ME BEING A GIGOLO ARE GREATLY EXAGGERATED

We feed our cats in the garage where they stay all night and during the hottest part of the day. Lately ants have been getting into the food, driving the cats away. I have taken to removing the bowls after about fifteen minutes, giving the cats time to eat and giving less time for the ants to arrive. I have noticed that when I go out to pick up the bowls, there is occasionally two or three ants moving on the floor around the bowls. When I go to crush them with my finger, they run around frantically trying to escape. These damn things can see me, know I am there and know I mean harm! Flies do that too.

We used to live in the clear-cut redwood mountains on the California coast. In pools in the streams were small trout -- about six inches long. Whenever I would toss in a line baited with a worm, all the fish would rush toward the bait, trying to be the first to eat it. Whether or not I caught one or he got away, from then on until a day or two later, not one fish would pay any attention to a worm. They KNEW, you see. Bullheads are not like this.

Walking on the road above the stream were puddles of water left by springs leaking onto the road. At different parts of the seasons, the puddles would be filled with hundreds and hundreds of small tadpoles. At still different parts of the seasons, there would be no tadpoles at all. And no frogs. Also at different parts of the season would be hundreds of water snakes and at still different parts, no snakes at all. Where did they go?

I have a theory as to what was happening. Whether it is correct or not, I don't know -- but I think it is. My theory, after all. Why wouldn't I think it right? I'm not stupid.

I used to watch these snakes and they seemed to mostly hunt along the bottom of the water, occasionally seemingly finding food, but then would continue sticking their snouts along the bottom of the creek. Occasionally they would grab a fish, haul it out and proceed to eat it.

One day I was saw a rather large water snake searching the bottom and suddenly catch a sculpin (sic?) and drag it out. The snake came out of the water right in front of me. He stopped there and for the longest time just looked at me. I guess he finally decided I was not a threat and he proceed to eat the sculpin tail first. Took him a time because sculpins have rather prickly fins. He got about to the head, changed his mind, spit out the fish, turned it around and very quickly ate it head first.

It was fascinating to me that the snake was checking out my intentions. He knew I was sentient, in other words -- another being.

After watching the peculiar activity at the bottom of the water with the snakes seeming to search for something at the bottom, I realized they were looking for tadpoles -- obviously their favorite food. When they caught one, they would eat it right there - not bringing it out on land.

Catching a fish was only a spur of the moment thing, happening while searching for tadpoles. In the spring the tadpoles would hatch, snakes would come eating them, breeding more snakes, coming down from higher up where the tadpoles hadn't hatched yet, and they would eat them all. Finding no more food around, the snakes would leave for yet untouched places. No tadpoles, no snakes. No snakes, lots of tadpoles. The cycle of life. Tadpoles are to watersnakes like grass is to cows or rabbits are to foxes.

One day I was coming back from a walk and I went toward the creek which was by our cabin and I saw two fairly large tadpoles as close to the shore as they could get -- their noses almost out of the water -- just this film of water touching their nose. Usually tadpoles would quickly swim away when I drew near. I walked right up to these and they looked at me, but didn't move. "How strange, " I thought. Then further out in the water I saw a hunting snake. These tadpoles were hiding from the snake! Mindless creatures? I think not.

Now what I just described is anathema to many educated people -- especially teachers and professors with a background in the sciences. You tell that story to them (Those that I have run into anyhow) and they will explain pontifically, "Oh. That is called 'anthropomorphic' ," which is a fancy way of saying that I am putting human reactions onto animals. The irony of them doing this is that what they are saying is that all emotions, all memories, all intellectual workings are totally the bailiwick of humans. Animals are not allowed human activity. Saying such tales are anthropomorphic effectively dismisses the story from having any value in scientific thought.