A few weeks ago, I noticed J.R. the cat meowing loudly and acting distressed.

A few weeks ago, I noticed J.R. the cat meowing loudly and acting distressed.

J.R. complains a lot, so I didn’t pay much attention until a couple of minutes later, when an earthquake rumbled through. This was the one that was a 4.3 or whatever.

So, I wondered: Did J.R. know the earthquake was coming and wanted me to do something about it, just as he often asks me to fix the recurring problems with his food dish and water pan?

Could be. Folks have long suspected that animals detect disturbances in the force that escape humans, and, frankly, I believe they can.

Last year, for example, I raised a couple of broad breasted white turkeys with an eye toward inviting them to the family celebrations at Thanksgiving and Christmas.

On the very morning that I planned on extending the formal invitation to one of them, I went to the pen and found him... dead as a wedge. No kidding, he was belly up. Beak to the sky.

Coincidence? I think not. The inescapable conclusion is that he knew what was in store for the day, so he rejected my reality and substituted his own.

Some might say this is nothing more than theory, but I counter their skepticism with the unchallengeable history of paranormal activity in my very own family.

One of my many cousins became convinced that the two of us shared a special family connection and were conjoined on at least one psychic wave length, a circumstance he validated one day by having me guess what number he was thinking.

I nailed it 10 times in a row, to which he nodded knowingly. Case proven, even to the skeptic.

This cousin had a promising career as a psychic medium until, as he described it, his natural competitiveness drove him to become an extra large.

I never understood why he didn’t see that coming.

I’m sure J.R. would have.


Brian Blansett is publisher of The Shawnee News-Star.