DAMusings - why do we talk to our pets - Dominique Millette
DAMusings
By: Dominique Millette
Call of the wild: huh?
I'm allergic to cats. I still think they're cute, but they make me sneeze. Of course, they know this, which is why they always make a beeline for me and rub up against my leg, especially when I wear something very fabricky which will attract their hair and keep it there forever, even after 15 tumbles in the washing machine.
After they have done this, they will look up at me and meow. Cats and dogs are both funny that way. They will make noises at you and look like they expect you to say something back. For some reason, most people do. They will act like they know exactly what the cat or dog just said, and answer back with an Elmer Fudd-like accent, in human language. Then the cat will meow again or the dog will bark a second time, and so on, for several minutes, until either the animal or human loses interest.
This is considered perfectly normal. People and their pets continuously communicate without understanding a single sound the other creature has just emitted. No one minds. Myself, I've never tried this with other humans who speak, say, Serbo-Croatian - which I do not. Of course, when speaking English to someone who has just spoken to you in Serbo-Croatian, normally, it would not be acceptable to stroke them on the head and say "Yes, that's my little sweetie", using the voice of Elmer Fudd.
So: why do we do it to animals? What if the cat is actually saying: "Hey, you smell bad! Take my advice - go roll yourself in a dead mouse!" Or: "I like your pants - where did you get them?" Maybe the dog is barking at you because it wants you to help it dig up a bone somewhere in the park, and it's giving you directions: "turn left at the fire hydrant, then sniff the grass up to the tree marked off by Rex, Lulu and Veevee. It's just under there."
Alternately, your pet could, in fact, be attempting to discuss the philosophy of Schopenhauer, as compared to Nietzche. How do you know otherwise? You don't! Maybe all this time, your pet has been sneaking a look at your personal library and knows more than you do, but you will never find out.
Sure, scientists somewhere have ranked all mammals on an intelligence scale, with humans at the top, and dogs and cats in the middle. Supposedly, dogs are smarter, with the I.Q. of a three-year old child, or something like that. Does this make any sense? Do we actually care if dogs and cats can understand some of the same things as humans? Is it their job? Will they ever go to university? Will we have to buy them a car if they graduate?
What if dogs and cats invented their own I.Q. test for humans? What would it look like? Hmmm.... humans can't smell anything. They're deaf as doornails. On the ability scale, they're somewhere between mosquitos and fleas. Humans are at about the level of three-day old puppies. Not very useful, is it? But that's okay: they can be trained. All you have to do is meow or bark at them, and eventually, they will either bring food or take you outside. And besides: they're so cute, aren't they? Woof! Meow!
(c) 2001 Dominique Millette, All rights reserved
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