Talking to Dogs

Biscuit says "awoahwooor"

I have always talked to my own dogs in a highly idiomatic and probably unintelligible way, and yet I have consistently been impressed by their ability to not only understand me, but indeed contribute to a meaningful exchange of sentiments.  Not to take anything away from my own dog’s abilities, but since starting as a dog walker, I have come to the conclusion that most dogs are, in fact, remarkable conversationalists.  Provided, of course, you know how to talk to them. Though there are a number or viable approaches to dog-diction, I would like to share my own, which have brought me considerable success.

First, it is important to keep in mind that dogs are excellent listeners.  Even Dudley the Boxer, who seems to grow progressively deafer by the day, will listen attentively throughout a full 20-minute visit as you talk about the weather, your day, your worries and concerns, or anything else that might be on your mind. Other humans you pass on the street might look at you sideways, but that is simply because they aren’t good listeners. Unlike Sally the Australian Shepherd, who could make quite a lot of money as a therapist and yet offers her patient floppy ear on a strictly pro-bono basis.  She will listen discreetly as you talk things out, and then turn and give you a slight approving nod as you come to an appropriate conclusion.  It’s very professional, and guaranteed to be held in the strictest confidence.

If you ask a dog a question, they will immediately consider it.  If you say “hey, what’s that?” they will look at you with an expression that says, “why, I don’t know.  Please allow me to investigate on your behalf.”  I did this with Sam the Yellow Lab today, and the “that” I was referring to was a large deer.  Sam was very eager to go ask the deer what he was, and though this was unadvisable, I appreciated his enthusiasm and open-mindedness.

If you say “whose there?” when you enter a house or when there is a knock at the door, all nearby dogs will begin to bark maniacally, like my Morgan and Barley.  Though their barking might seem a somewhat brash conversational mode, it must be interpreted in light of what the dogs are saying with each bark, which is typically “hello?  State your business please.  If you are nice, than you are welcome to enter and begin to pet me immediately, and if you are not nice then you should perhaps depart the premises lest I should be obliged to masticate on your limbs.”  Nothing could be more polite.

If you ask Biscuit the Lab “where you going?” he’ll look and say “oh nowhere in particular. Where do you think we ought to go?”  If you ask “whose a good boy?” he will wag his tail and reveal a grin that translates as “I think I know the answer; yet I eagerly await your pronouncement.”  If you ask him “what’s the big idea?” he will respond with a look that says “the big idea?  I’m afraid I don’t know. Would you care to elaborate on your question?”  While waiting for me to lock the door so we can begin our walk, Biscuit always says “awoahwooor,” which is an ancient canine prayer for a safe and prosperous walk.  It is polite to chant along with him when he does this.

If you walk into a room in which something has recently been chewed, knocked over, or otherwise disassembled, you can ask “who did this?” and be immediately answered by an abashed countenance indicating the guilty party. You need not stop there however. Though possessing the foreknowledge that Poncho, for example, is prone to obstreperous caprices, upon seeing his self-incriminating posture you can proceed to ask “Poncho, did you do this?”  He will tell you “yes I’m afraid so, and I am deeply ashamed.”  Also add some “how could you?” and “don’t you know better?” and don’t limit the disappointed tone in your voice.  The more deeply shocked and hurt you sound, the more the guilty party will visibly repent (in some cases even trying to hide, or crawl into another universe where they are not so oppressed by guilt) and the more confidently you can report your conclusions to the proper authorities on the report card.

Also a few notes on pronunciation:  Boy should be pronounced as “Bouyee” and girl should be pronounced as “Guroh”.  The word dog should come at the close of any and every sentence, and is best communicated as “Dewg” or even “Dewgadewg” if you’re not in a hurry.  Definite articles and possessive pronouns are to be used constantly.  For example, a paltry ‘hello how are you Bailey’ would become ‘hello the Bailey dog, how is my doggy dog’. The end of a sentence should either rise as in a question or fall dramatically as in the final inarguable pronouncement of a great sage.

Most dog languages do not feature consonants, so avoid them in your own speech whenever possible.  This can be readily accomplished by paralyzing the tongue and speaking with the back of the throat.  The lips should be held soft, thick and inert, like velvet curtains that open for your word play.

There have been a number of high profile dog philologists who have lately achieved great fame and fortune on the lecture circuit promoting their new theories.  Chief among these is the so called “L to W” theory, which holds that any time you are conversing with a canine, you shouwd tawk wike this and empwoy a widdwe baby voice. I feel that not only does this approach not enhance inter-species communication, but in fact has led to a sharp increase in biting incidents.  I would further add that these bites are all well justified in that they come as a response to an indecent, gratuitous and audibly reprehensible practice.

I contend that the L should not be abandoned.  In some cases it should even be enhanced, such as in the word “hello.”  In this case, I find it advantageous (and highly gratifying) to make as rich and luxuriant and “L” sound as possible.  Use the whole of the tongue, hold it a few extra beats, and then use this tongue position as a sort of morphological spring board, as it were, to fling the final “O” in hello into the sound-space of your new dog friend. The O will find itself rising and falling like a kite in the air, much to the delight of all around.  Think of Whitney Houston were she a champion yodeler.  If your vocal explorations should lead you into the higher registers, you might be lucky enough to hear your dogs join in a cappella. You needn’t wait for a full moon to harmonize in this way.

Finally, a word on dog whispering.  While this subtle and powerful practice has enjoyed a vogue of late, I recommend talking in a full-volume voice.  Whispering is just fine, but now that you know the proper way to talk to a dog, you may as well let them hear you.  You know they’ll be listening.

 

 

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