You can't do telepathy with a dog.
Oh really?
My last dog (not this retarded pit bull I have now) was a freakin' canine rocket scientist.
That dog could pretty much read my mind. She'd be about to go nuts wanting outside & I'd just make a little "eh" noise & she'd immediately sit down & stop dancing around, then just stare at me. I'd open the door & she wouldn't even blink. Wouldn't even glance outside. I'd have a little staring contest and then all I'd have to do to give her permission to run out the door was quickly glance outside then back at her. As soon as my eyeballs moved in that direction, she'd bolt out the door. But if I glanced away from the door, she'd go back into the house & lay down on the floor in the living room, even if she had to race like a **** horse.
And I had a rule, ... I didn't allow the dog inside the truck because I'd be in trouble if the mechanics found dog hairs in the truck. I only had to bark at her once, and she learned not to jump up into the truck when I got home. Instead she'd wait next to the truck wagging her tail with her paws on the steps.
Dog's name was Raven. She was named after Loch Raven, which is a reservoir where we used to go fishing on the weekends when I was in the Baltimore area on a construction project in 2001.
Mrs. Duck has had cats that I've had to put up with having around the house, but the only cat that was ever truly mine was "Oscar". He was the son of a stray that was living in my garage about 10 years ago. I put the mama cat & it's kittens in a cardboard box, taped it shut (left air holes) and left it in front of the vet's office about 30 minutes before they opened one morning because I couldn't trick enough people into adopting the kittens. (my friend Eric & I tricked some little 8 or 9 yr old girls into taking 4 of them, but their parents were mad & made them bring them back) But I kept the only one that wasn't all black.
This one had the same black & white fur patterns as the dog, so I kept it. I named him Oscar because his favorite place to sleep was in the garbage can. Whenever it was time to take the garbage out, I always had to check to make sure the cat wasn't in there before I tied the bag shut.
It would talk to you. If you said "meow" it would meow back. (attached zip file contains a 1 second .wmv video clip. I have no idea if it's compatible with the geek phones but I don't care either)
I think I took the cat away from it's mother a little too soon, because it decided that the other big furry black thing was it's mother. They became best friends. Raven would growl if anybody other than me tried to pick up the cat. When the cat reached puberty, he would try to hump the dog. I have a video but I had to delete the sound because YouTube banned it in the United States because of the music that was playing in the garage when I recorded the video. I don't even remember what was playing. I think it was some FM radio station.
When the dog got knocked up by a pit bull owned by the illegal immigrants next door, and had puppies, the puppies played too rough with the cat & scared him off. The cat adopted my neighbor (half a mile down the road & across two creeks) and the cat lived over there for about 2 years before coyotes eventually got it.