Conversation With A Chihuahua

Posted on February 28, 2014. Filed under: language, Pets | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , |

Today’s proverbActions speak louder than words.

Your word for the day:

  • language = a communication medium; a bridge between the knowledge of one and the ignorance of another.

I noted the language barrier between our two species (homo domesticus and canis familiaris) in a previous post (Hermit Interrupted).  Time, once again, seems to have modified things a little.  The two little interlopers upon my solitude have figured out a few things about me and have developed a path of communication.  For my part, I figure they just want to eat or go outside…   or not.

For instance, the big dog uses his nose and muzzle in the same manner that we use a hand to tap someone for attention or take their elbow to say, “Come with me.”  A quick nose dob to the leg says, “Hello” while a light muzzle slide across the leg says,  “Hey, didn’t you see me down here?”  When he comes into my room with his mouth open and his tongue hanging out a little and his eyes are sparkling, he wants something.  If I do not get up and follow, I get the muzzle hook behind my calf saying, “C’mon, man, don’t be a jackass.  At least get up and see what I want.”

Almost always, with the big boy, it’s “come with me to the food bowl.”  But, since the bowl is just a few feet from the back door where stinky things often call to him, I can’t be sure.  I always pass the food bowl and open the back door.  It may be cold and rainy, but  I hype the excitement of the great outdoors and then look back for his reaction.  His eyes are looking at me from the tops of their sockets.  Holding that gaze, his butt slowly sinks to the carpet into the sitting position.  I can hear him thinking, “You…   have got…   to be kidding.  How long is it going to take you to figure this out?”  Yeah!  He wants food.  Conversely, if he makes a run at the back door, it’s the stinky things calling to him.

Then, there is the 50-ouncer, the hairy Chihuahua.  He asks for more than a trip outside or a serving of chow.  He has agenda:

  • I want your chair.
  • I want to be in your lap in your chair.
  • I want the other chair you use.
  • Open this door so I can get in this room.
  • It is time to feed me.
  • Daddy, he’s looking at me again!  (That is to tell me the big dog is edging closer to the little one’s bowl so he can muscle in and finish it off.  It is little dog’s way of getting me to scold the big dog.)

Both of them have different dialects for “holie molie what are you eating?  Can I have some, too?  Can I have some, huh?” When little dog is eager and excited for something, big dog exhibits interest but remains silent.  He keeps looking at little dog and me to see what the effect is.  Because big dog knows that little dog is cute to homo domesticus and gets what he wants most of the time, big dog lets little dog to the begging.  Big dog gets to share in whatever little dog negotiated

However, there was one event that went beyond “I am hungry, feed me” and “I’m bored, let me out.”  I think the little one called me stupid.

While in my LIFE IS GOOD pose (feet up, leaning back in my chair, cup of coffee poised to meet my lips, eyes closed in deep reflection) little dog came in all excited.  Right up to my knee he came, making that yelping, whiney noise and tapping my knees with his paws…   standing on his back feet since the top of his head is only about 7 inches from the floor.  My immediate assessment is that he wants up in my lap.  Wrong again, coffee breath.  As I stirred, little dog whirled and hit the doorway all excited.  When I stood, he took off down the hall…   outside, I guessed.  Out in the hall, I saw that he had raced all of 3 feet to the next door.  He was in a slight crouch, nose to the door and glancing up at me.  When that door opened at least 2 inches, he was ready to squirt in.

Small problem:  a house guest is using this room.  Whenever this request is made, I always knock first and wait for a reply before I open the door.  This I did twice with no answer.  Down low, I saw the hairy one rise from his sprint pose and give me a full face look.  Then, in an instant, he shot down the hallway and into the living room.  I followed.  In the living room he had stopped and sat down at the couch and was looking me in the eyes as I entered.  I then asked him if he wanted to go outside and I tried to make that sound exciting.  The dog responded by racing back into the hall and waiting for me at the door he wanted to enter.  I opened the door and he was happy.

This is the conversation that went down:

  • Hey, Doofus, let me in the bedroom next door.
  • Okay, but let me knock so I don’t surprise anyone.
  • Knock, knock.  No answer.  Knock, knock.  No answer.
  • Unbelievable.  Look, Doofus, there is no one in there to answer.  Come to the living room.
  • So,  now you want to go outside?
  • Are you for real?  The kid you think is in the bedroom is asleep here on the couch — you can see him can’t you?  So, quit talking to the stupid door and let me in that room.

If that damned, hairy little creature weren’t so cute, I could hate him…   a lot!

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