
You humans talk a lot. I see you on your computers, your phones, in conference rooms or in hallways. You also talk to me (I think it’s strange that you think that I understand you or something… when really the only words that come through loud and clear are “cookie” or “treat”).
I might not understand your words, but I understand your body movements. Some parts of your human communication are just like our dog communications. Your bodies say a lot. I know I’m in trouble when Jessica crosses her arms and her body gets tense. She doesn’t even have to tell me to “lie down” because I know it’s coming. But crossed arms aren’t the norm for her. When I’m around people, especially new people, I look for a relaxed and open body position. People who look relaxed make me relaxed too. And when I’m relaxed, it makes it easier for me to pay attention to the other words I know, like “sit” or “paw.” I’ve learned lots of new things since being adopted, because I’ve taught my owners how to communicate with me. (I’m a good trainer like that.)
I can’t imagine having to understand you humans through a machine. I guess you are better at that since you don’t communicate through only barks and whines and body movements (though I have definitely heard you both bark and whine on occasion). But I like being face-to-face with you. I can read you that way, and I bet other humans can too. Just don’t forget, it’s not just what you say.
Sometimes how you say it is so much more important when you want to be heard.
Categories Quadrupedal Posts
Hi-five to Callie!
It’s better not to understand the silly things humans say. You’d probably be bored to death
I live in Provincetown and I love going to the beach. Whenever I hear the word “beach” I generally drop everything and run for the door. Lately my owner has been saying a new sequence of words or sounds — “b”, “e”, “a”, “c”, “h”. I’m not sure what it all means but he always has a rather suspicious look on his face when he says this — as if he has a secret I’m not supposed to know about.