Busted!
And I must tell you, I suspected it all along. I think we all did. Dogs are smarter than we give them credit for. But they play us!
The proof comes in a recent study. Hungarian researchers — Hungary has been on the forefront of K9 research ever since proving that dogs ate the Christmas presents, not burglars! — learned that man’s best friend really does understand what we are saying. Well, actually that they analyze both the words that we say along with our tone to put together meaning.
But that’s a bunch of scientific mumbo-jumbo. The fine print is this: My dog’s been scammin’ me!
She’s smart. She understands perfectly what I’m saying, and always has. More insidiously, she thinks that I’m just a big, dumb human who lacks the neural pathways to know that Hungary is a country, not just when I want dinner. (To be honest with you, I was a little unclear on that. I mean, where is Hungary anyway?)
But I’m on to you, dog! I read Hungarian studies. (Well, once translated. I think they have their own language and everything!) I’m hip to your jive. I’m done believing you’re just an aloof animal who does bad things because you didn’t have the “mental capacity” to know right from wrong. That you couldn’t “understand” what we were saying.
Cut the sad, adorable puppy dog eyes that could melt an evil dictator. The looks that seem to say: “Why did I eat the cat poop? To be honest with you, I don’t think it was ever made clear it was off limits. Clearly, a smart guy like you must have known a simple dog like me wouldn’t understand such things.”
But they know what we mean! They know that “Do NOT eat cat poop!” — both our words AND our tone — means, “Do NOT eat cat poop!”
Busted by the study!
Same thing with bath time. “Oh, you were calling me. I didn’t understand. I thought you meant, ‘go hide in the front room and then make your body dead weight so no one will be able to pick you up.’ My mistake.”
And here we thought the only things our dogs understood were the words “dinner,” “walk” and the crinkly sound of a bag of tortilla chip opening up. (My dog can hear that three counties over and will be on you with a look that screams, “Somebody say nacho!”)
I always kind of figured she was smarter than she was letting on. Ever since I caught her with a calculator and the stock pages. Now, armed with this new study, I’m going to be having a lot more conversations with my dog. Lots of words and LOTS of intonation. (Well, right after I get her dinner and take her for her walk. She has this really sad look on her face for some reason. Breath smells a little funky, too.)