Whoa. I think I've just blown my mind. I need my ball and a tasty bone.
My "Human Communication" Journal
I've been DYING to talk to someone about astral physics and multi-dimensional time travel. But the humans think all I can understand is eating and playing! Maybe they're not as deep as I thought they were. Maybe they aren't the superior species and we dogs ARE! I think I know what the cat would say.
Whoa. I think I've just blown my mind. I need my ball and a tasty bone.
Shhh. Still talking to the cat. She really got me thinking! Like, she said, "Do you ever wonder why the house smells so good at dinner time, but the food I get doesn't smell like that?" Or, "Can you really trust people who ply you with baby talk and treats and then suddenly you find yourself in a BATH! The deception!" And what about "When they yell and yell and yell when you poop on the carpet — like they can't stand the yummy smell you created — and then they sneak around behind you on walks and collect the stuff! It's a double standard!"
Yep, that cat really has me questioning everything. Am I living in a parallel universe? Are my people just aliens from another planet? Why am I here? Why are we all here? Is this the reality or the dream? And most importantly, can I really trust the cat?
Okay, don't tell anyone. I'm taking lessons from a cat. She said I'm doing this human communication thing all wrong. She said to ignore all the rules and do what cats do: whatever they want! But I was doing whatever I wanted before the class and it wasn't working, I said.
So she explained. Lots of people will tell you what to do based on what works for them. But what works for them doesn't work for everyone. She said I have to find what works for me, to walk my own path. I really understood what she was saying when she gave the example of when her people tell her not to sleep on the kitchen table (her favorite place!) — and she does it anyway.
Why give up her favorite place when it is working for her so well? And sleeping in a box (on the floor!) isn't anywhere near as fun. Is she going to give up the chance to have command views of the rest of the house? Is she going to give up the fun of leaving permanent scratch marks on real wood? Is she going to give up the amusing people reactions when they find genuine cat hair ("this stuff's like gold") in their food? No way!
Hmmm. She listens to all the input, then picks and chooses what she wants. It's worth trying. Ooh! I hear my person telling me to get off the couch. Gotta go! Guess I'll try the cat's way another time.
OMD!* You won't believe what I just heard from the cat down the street. Remember that class on human communication I was taking? Well, it finished and I still don't feel like I'm getting it. But the cat says at least half the class already signed up for Level 2!
What am I doing wrong? I've done all the homework perfectly! Okay, almost perfectly. Okay, I may have done a few things differently than the teacher said. But it couldn't make that much of a difference, could it? Like when she said don't attempt communication right when your human gets home from work — let them get situated first. Well, I just KNOW they don't want to wait that long — they want to kiss and hug me and rub my belly and do baby talk and let me lick them and watch me dance around and wag my tail RIGHT AWAY!
And then there's the thing about "calling in protection" before communicating. What?!? If I call in that tough bull terrier next door, there will be so much barking and excitement, I'll never get a word in. How is that communicating? It works best for me when I have my people all to myself. With all that love, why would we need protection anyway?
Oh yeah, and there's also that thing the teacher said about keeping a journal of everything that did work so you can look back and see that you've actually had lots of success. Here are some of my entries from last week:
Me: "Food? Belly rub? Cheese?"
Person: Pats me on the head.
Me: "Treats? Walk? Cheese?"
Person: Gave me a bath.
Me: "Snacks? Play? Cheese?"
Person: Kept staring at something that sounded deliciously like "my bone." But I think they said "iPhone."
Me: "Ball? Back scratch? Cheese?"
Person: Started some kind of argument with the rest of the family about a "bad" smell in the room. I got the feeling they were blaming something on me. I thought everything smelled great.
I did get to play and walk and have a belly rub last week, but not when I asked for them. Is there some kind of delay the teacher forgot to tell us about? Boy, I wish I had some cheese.
*oh my dog
Today I tried ALL DAY LONG to communicate with my human. I visualized a big scoop of peanut butter splooping onto the floor. Over and over and over and over and over and over and over.
The most that happened was a celery stick plopped onto the sofa when I "accidentally" nudged my human's plate while she was eating a snack in the living room. She pushed it toward me, hoping I would take care of the clean-up. Yuck. I quickly acted like I heard something outside and ran for it.
Then I remembered from class that while animals think emotionally, humans are different. They like to multitask. They don't give much thought to anything in particular. Animals live in the "now," but humans live in the "not now," or "I want it now."
I rushed back into the house to try out my new idea of visualizing human multitasking… peanut butter and an iPhone; peanut butter and TV; peanut butter and Facebook.
Okay, I never actually got inside. There was a REALLY good smell on the grass that I had to stop for. Then I chased a bee. Then I found the PERFECT chewing stick. Then I chased a bee. Wait, didn't I already do that? Like it matters if I did! Before I knew it, the afternoon was gone and it was almost dinner time — one of my FAVORITE times, along with play time, snuggle time, walking time, riding time, sniffing time, rolling time, barking time, running time, licking time, back scratch time, swimming time, fetching time, chasing time, napping time, and tail-wagging time.
If humans are thinking about all of these fun things all the time, no wonder they can't hear me! Tomorrow, I think I will try… wait, I think I see a BEE! Catch you later!
I was so excited to go to my first human communication class today I nearly peed on the carpet. Okay, I did pee on the carpet — but that was just so I'd have something nice to smell later and had nothing to do with my excitement about the class!
In the car ride over, I tried to communicate with my human by sticking my nose under her arm. Nothing like a little scratchy behind the ears to calm the first day of class jitters. She was really excited about my attempt at communication! She let out an enthusiastic scream right before the car swerved left and then right. Then she reached out to give me the scratchy but her hand must have slipped and it pushed me over to the other side of the seat.
Anyway, we got to class and boy did it smell good. I think I might be clairscentient! We tried an exercise where we had to communicate to our human that we wanted a belly rub. There was a lot of barking and confused faces. One Dalmatian got his human to do it right away. He must be one of those born with this gift.
I know they say it's our birthright to be able to communicate with humans; that we just need to let go of our fears and release blockages. But I did that on the grass before we even got in there! Maybe deep down I'm still afraid that it'll never happen for me.
Ooh! I hear the UPS truck. Gotta go practice!
My name is Bilbo. I'm a Beagle. Ever since I was young, while my siblings and friends romped with each other, I would always be off spending time with the humans. Last year, I finally decided I'm going to learn to talk to them! This is my journal.
© 2019 Speak! Good Human. & Josh Coen. All Rights Reserved.