Sometimes…well, okay, often, I despair of my two-legs, I really do.
She is so proud of how well we communicate, but what she really means is that while I understand loads of her language, not just smells and body language, but words too… she can pretty much only understand a little bit of mine.
Granted, she has got used to telling the difference between the special blinks that just show I’m paying attention and the ones that show that, in spite of everything, I love her. And she’s got a pretty good vocabulary for barks, ear-angles and tails. She knows when I’m not feeling too good and can ‘read’ when I am inviting her to play… and even tell the difference between when I’m telling the pigeons to go away or when there is a real intruder out there.
But, she just doesn’t get my singing.
I think the problem is my parentage. She’s used to setters… she knows I am intelligent, even though some dog sites use words like ‘a little willful’ and say we have ‘a tendency toward independent decision making’… But she’s never lived with a Toller before… and my dad was a Toller. Now, the site does mention my intelligence and inventiveness, even if it does say I am ‘strong willed’ and ‘can take control of a household’. It also says, “screams, sheds, likes to roll in dead fish and other stinky things, and is generally smarter than the average person.”
Well, I don’t scream… but I do sing. And my two-legs has no musical appreciation…or understanding.
Take the other night. I am curled up on the sofa. Outside it is dark and damp, but she still has the door open for me. And then, I see it… an intruder… so I start singing to her to let her know. It was fairly obvious… but all I get is,
“What’s the matter, girlie?”
“Don’t you feel well, my girl?”
Then she gets up to come and cuddle me.
That’s all very well, and normally, I’d be fine with that, but six inches of fat, brown slug is now slithering down the side of the rug towards my ball. I’d have dealt with it myself, but I’m not allowed to touch slugs. So I kept singing. And it took me ages to get her to look in the right direction!
And they call me a ‘dumb animal’…
I mean, she did get it eventually and unstuck the thing from the floor. They weld themselves onto it, you know. She said it would be happier in the garden. I thought she would be happier not finding it barefoot in the dark…
It is hard work being the intelligent one in this household 😉
So, anyway, I’m going to have a bit of a rest, ’cause she’s off adventuring again for the first time in ages, and I’m going to stay somewhere I don’t need to guard quite as much. I’ll tell you about it when I get back.