For instance, I'd be sitting in my chair in the living room, immersed in a newspaper or television program while Ruby was asleep on the couch. I'd sneak a one-eyed peek at her without moving my head or saying a word, and there she'd be, looking back at me as if I had telepathically commanded her to do so. It was uncanny. How can a dog be sound asleep, yet be aware enough to open her eyes the instant somebody looks at her?
And it wasn't merely that she watched us. She always looked us straight in the eye!
Being attuned to humans was not limited to just watching us, though. When we were home, she wanted to be with us wherever we happened to be.
She loved being with us in the kitchen. Of course, that was probably because her clumsy mom had minor, er, accidents and dropped tidbits of meat or cheese that needed to be - ahem - disposed of. Then, too, she was a very conscientious pup and took her job as Official Bowl and Pan Licker most seriously!
Ruby always tried to follow us into the bathroom. Doug drew the line on her companionship in that area, so she just camped outside the door and waited for him to emerge.
If I had to work outside at a job that might be hazardous to her I'd leave her inside, whereupon she'd stand at a window whimpering pathetically until I finished. (To be completely honest, if I was outside too long, she'd scream her head off!)
If Doug went out to shovel snow without her, she'd stand on the window box watching, and cry to be out there with him. If he relented and came inside to get her, she'd stay out for a few minutes and then she'd whine to come back inside with me!
But sometimes her humans were simply too boring to watch. We weren't chopping, stirring, mixing, scraping or dropping foodstuff in the kitchen; we weren't in the bathroom preparing for a Basenji Lick-Dry; and we weren't getting ready to take her outside to play or go for a walk.
That's when Ruby decided to be a Basenji watcher instead.