Not only is four to six dog walks a day more fun than laughing and good exercise, it can also be intellectually stimulating. Of course that's why I'm attempting to journal the many ethologically fascinating phenomena which goes on every minute- or even many times a minute. Take for example Milo, (my 9 month old ACD / wirehair Griff mix), adjusting his gait, again and again over sixty seconds or so, as we approach this serious looking yellow Lab guy on the walking path. With every four or five steps Milo's tail cranked down from swishy, high held, juvenile-jaunty to low, slow sweeping, almost between the legs posturing. The Lab is dragging his owner down the path- with furrowed nose and brow, exposed incisors with the corners of his lips forward, a steady stalking gait, fixed, raised tail, all the classic signals saying: "Don't be there when I get there or you'll regret it."
Milo's shifting postures, all the way to well behind me as we walked, confirmed my observations. I tried to distract him by calling his name and having him sit, but I mostly wanted him to break eye contact. You gotta admit, it must be hard not to stare at someone storming at you, owner in tow, and looking really pissed off.
It worked though, he looked at me and sat on the side of the path. This seemed to take some steam out of the lab and he offered only a halfhearted lunge as they passed.
I speak dog.
Of course I don’t "speak” dog, but I'm fascinated by what they’re communicating to each other and why I try to watch with an almost athletic vigor.
The skill improves with practice and the reward is a glimpse into another world.
Some of us are fascinated by the idea of communicating with alien forms, what it would be like, how they would perceive us, or their environment...
But what about the furry creatures sleeping on our living room floors?
Why do so many of us expect only that our dogs should learn our language?
I speak dog.
Of course I don’t "speak” dog, but I'm fascinated by what they’re communicating to each other and why I try to watch with an almost athletic vigor.
The skill improves with practice and the reward is a glimpse into another world.
Some of us are fascinated by the idea of communicating with alien forms, what it would be like, how they would perceive us, or their environment...
But what about the furry creatures sleeping on our living room floors?
Why do so many of us expect only that our dogs should learn our language?
