Animals sometimes surprise us with their antics. My mother often said that her poodle, Prissy, had a built-in alarm clock.

One rainy afternoon when my son and daughter and their families were visiting mother, the three grandchildren, ages 7, 8, and 9, sprawled on the floor in her bedroom, playing a TV game. When they interacted in loud voices, the poodle moved slightly on her special coverlet on my mother’s bed. She was snuggled under her very own afghan with her head on a ruffled pillow.

One of the children, with a remote game control in his hand, twisted from side to side according to the way his game was going. The other two watched intently, when suddenly one jumped up and clapped while the player groaned. His turn had ended.

Prissy opened her eyes, raised her head, stretched a little, changed her position, and settled back down. Although the children occasionally laughed and sometimes a brief quarrel erupted between them, Prissy slept on. Now and then, she emitted a little snore.

Earlier as my mother sat brushing the pampered Prissy, she told the children about the dog’s built-in-alarm clock.

“When it’s five o’clock, Prissy tells me it’s time for her to eat,” she said.

One child responded with a nod. The other two, deep in concentration of their game, ignored the remark as the game continued. Prissy snoozed on.

And then, right in the midst of the switch-over of the game control from one child to another, the dog opened her eyes, and sat up and stretched. She looked at my mother and yelped a couple of times. Everyone looked at the clock.

“Look, it’s five o’clock. She did it!” one child said, shaking his head in disbelief.

During that time, we had a dachshund that kept us amused. To let me know she was hungry, she picked up her bowl and bounced it around on the kitchen floor. Then she had an annoying habit of carrying a few pieces of her dry dog food to the carpet in the den where she sat down and ate them.

She liked to burrow her long, slinky body inside some covers on the couch throw pillows and sleep. When I’d call and she didn’t come, I found her from her wagging tail under those covers.

My husband and I met a couple who lived on the grounds of the state park where they worked. The lady of the house loved the wildlife creatures. She began feeding birds and raccoons on schedule every day. The birds got so bold that they landed on her fingers to eat out of the palms of her hands. Raccoons ventured close enough to snatch the food out of her hands.

One day she had to leave home during the scheduled feeding time. When she returned, she discovered that the raccoons went on a rampage in protest. They chewed up a hose, yanked her flowers out of the pots, and pulled down some hanging baskets.

Nina is a retired journalist, who formerly worked at The Foley Onlooker.