The Power of Dogs

Can you explain why learning foreign language commands is just as easy for a dog as learning their first language?

The language of dogs is physical while communication among humans is largely verbal. This does not mean our language is richer than theirs. They can actually ‘speak’ to one another quicker than we can. A simple squint of the eye can mean ‘come no closer.’ A play bow is a clear invitation.

Having lived with man for at least 15,000 years according to scientists, dogs have learned to interpret our body language nearly as well as their own. Couple certain body language with the English word ‘heel,’ and dogs learn what it means. They learn it equally well when using the same body language, you say the German word ‘foos.’

What types of motion are dogs great at detecting? Do you have a story about a dog who noticed a miniscule movement?

Different breeds of dogs have varying responses to motion. Sighthounds such as Greyhounds respond to movement on the horizon. This instinct goes back to the formation of the breed nearly 5,000 years ago when they were bred to run down game on the Egyptian desert.

Why do dogs have such great motion detection skills?

Our best friend fits into our lives so well that we sometimes forget he is a predator. The dog is blessed with a portion of the brain that instinctually responds to movement and triggers a response. DNA shows us that dogs are close descendants of wolves. Even today’s companion animals are not far from their predator roots. Thus, they respond to movement as any land predator would. Shake a toy in front of a Jack Russell Terrier, originally a ratting breed. Even one who has never seen a rat will respond by chasing, catching and shaking the toy, precisely emulating the hunt.

What was the most smile-eliciting thing that you ever saw a dog do?

My Greyhound Bobbi was a registered therapy dog. We made many visits to hospitals and nursing homes to comfort the patients. Marklund Home is a facility in the Chicago area for profoundly brain damaged children. We visited a class of these beautiful kids and showed them Bobbi’s tricks.

Afterward, a nurse asked if Bobbi could spend a moment with an 8 year old boy in her care. “Danny” as I’ll call him had sustained a traumatic brain injury rendering him not quite vegetative. Danny could not sit up by himself, so the nurse cradled him in her lap and I walked Bobbi up to the little boy.

My big white Greyhound nudged the boy’s hand, but he could not respond. I thought Bobbi would then solicit attention from the nurse instead. But she did not. She lay down and rested her head in Danny’s lap. She promptly fell asleep.

The nurse and I just looked at one another. Both of us were aware that something was happening, but I, for one, was not quite sure what it was. So I simply stood there and let whatever “it” was happen. Danny made facial expressions, but to my eyes, Danny did not seem to be aware.

Ten minutes later Bobbi woke up, shook herself off and pulled me to the next child. As we were leaving, that nurse ran up to thank me.

“Thank you so much for letting Danny visit with your dog. He smiled!” she said.

I gently told her that I did not see Danny smile, and asked how she could be sure. It turned out this nurse had been Danny’s neighbor before the brain injury. She had known him his whole life.

“I’ve been very worried about him,” she told me. “He used to smile all the time,” she continued, “but he has taken a turn for the worse and I haven’t seen him smile in two weeks.”

By this time, both the nurse and I were crying. That was the most beautiful smile my dog ever brought from a person.