Deliriously Happy (28 page)

Rur rar roo roo roo rawr rawr awr raw rarp rarp rarp!
—Means nothing; your dog has gone crazy.

EXERCISES:
Let's start with a simple “hello.” While dogs prefer to say hello nonverbally, they are capable of a standard declarative greeting when actual contact is not possible. The dog word for “hello” is
woof
(pronounced
wuf, wüf
, and sometimes
wrüf
, depending on breed and regional dialect). Facing your dog, say
woof
in as energetically and friendly a way as possible (tone of voice is very important; the similar-sounding
weuf
means “Back off! This is my food!”). For maximum impact, place added emphasis on the
w
and
f
sounds (The
f
is actually more of a
ph
. Dogs have more space between their lips and teeth than humans do, which causes increased “lip flapping” when they speak and makes them particularly well-suited for consonantal diphthongs.) If you have said “hello” correctly, your dog will
woof
back, a bit louder and slightly higher in pitch. If your dog just stares at you, you have probably mispronounced the word. Try again. If repeated attempts to say hello fail, it may be because your dog feels you are making fun or trying to talk down to him. Try to sound more sincere. If you have a smaller dog, you also might want to try substituting the phrase
yip yip yip
.

NOW THAT YOU AND YOUR DOG ARE ON SPEAKING TERMS: WHAT DO YOU TALK ABOUT?

Like humans, dogs prefer to talk about what they know. This varies widely from dog to dog, but my experience with Flynn is probably typical.

Flynn loves to talk about smells, all kinds of smells, even and especially smells humans consider impolite to discuss. You must try to give your dog some latitude in this regard. Remember, smells are your dog's only colors.

Flynn is also keenly interested in the environment, though his commitment wavers. During our trips to the city, for example, he will complain long and bitterly about the air quality, and yet, he plainly enjoys all the garbage.

Among Flynn's other favorite topics of conversation are: animals (all kinds), music (particularly opera), the weather, and the moon. Conversation stoppers for Flynn include: politics, religion, sports, clothing, the future, and money matters (about which he often displays an exasperating disinterest).

Your dog will likely share some of Flynn's interests; undoubtedly he will have several of his own. The important thing for you is to explore a full range of talking points with your dog, to discover what
he
wants to talk about. Any topic is fair game, although I would strongly warn you against broaching the subject of death. When I tried to explain this concept to Flynn, he began whimpering uncontrollably, then took off through the house, scooting along on his rear end and making a horrible mess.

EXERCISES:
Take your dog for a short, brisk walk around the block. When you arrive home, go into separate rooms and compose a list of all of the things you saw. (Since your dog cannot write, he will have to memorize his.) After about fifteen minutes (a time limit is important; your dog will otherwise spend hours pondering a single five-minute walk), get together and compare and contrast your lists.

You will be amazed at how differently you and your dog look at the world.

GETTING PAST THE SMALL TALK

How much do you really know about your dog? To find out, it is not enough to talk to your dog: you must also
listen
. Only then will your true dog emerge, as Flynn has for me.

For example, I never realized,
until I took the time to listen
, that Flynn has such a terrific sense of humor (albeit a bit immature). Before I mastered his language, one of Flynn's favorite jokes was to spout a canine vulgarity of the lowest order whenever I commanded him to “speak.” He's really quite a kidder.

In getting Flynn to open up, I also discovered he has the heart of a poet (as I suspect most dogs do). He loves to recite his song poems (which resemble blues dirges) on clear evenings when there is a full moon. Here's one (translated):

My master is good

and he gives me good food
.

When I am hungry
,

he brings me food then
.

Except sometimes
,

I remember one time in particular
.

But mostly
,

he is a good provider
.

Had I known this was what Flynn had been howling all along, I never would have yelled at him to shut up. Getting to know your dog can help you avoid similar misunderstandings.

Be warned, however: it is possible you and your dog will get to know each other, only to realize you are totally incompatible. This happens rarely, but when it does, it is better to accept this fact, and take appropriate measures, than to go on living a lie.

EXERCISES:
If you and your dog have gotten this far, you are beyond structured exercises.

HOW TO TALK TO A BAD DOG

Being able to talk to your dog is wonderful, but should not be confused with true intimacy. Don't find this out the hard way, as I had to.

A few months ago, I came home from work and discovered Flynn had chewed up all the mail. He could not, or would not, give any explanation for his behavior. Furthermore, he did not seem the least bit contrite. I sternly lectured him on the importance of respecting the property of others (throwing in a few ominous references to U.S. Postal Inspectors) and thought that would be the end of the matter.

But the next day, Flynn had done it again. He had also attempted to hide the results of his crime throughout the house.

It didn't take too long to figure out what was going on. Behind the bedroom toilet (where Flynn is not even supposed to go), I found the pulpy remains of my broadband bill; it was for nearly fifteen hundred dollars!

A quick call to the company confirmed my worst suspicions:
someone
had ordered
Beverly Hills Chihuahua
more than three hundred times. (This is not quite the fantastic accomplishment it seems; the remote is quite intuitive.) Although a cable company supervisor said she would give me a one-time credit on the bill, I was absolutely furious. It wasn't the money; it was that Flynn had deliberately
lied
to me, something I thought dogs were not even capable of.

I lost control and lashed out at Flynn viciously.

Harph! Harhh rrah gruh rau-hurr!
I barked without thinking, and then went on to say a number of other things I immediately wished I could take back. But it was too late; Flynn had understood every word.

In retrospect, I guess I should have just taken a rolled-up newspaper and rapped Flynn across the snout. I thought we had gotten beyond that kind of thing, but I've since come to realize that words hurt far more when they are spoken in anger than when they appear on the printed page.

WHEN YOUR DOG IS NO LONGER TALKING TO YOU

Flynn didn't speak to me for a long time after the
Chihuahua
incident. I would try to initiate conversations, ask Flynn how his day was, but he would just mutter something unintelligible. When I would try to tell him how my day had gone, he would look straight into my eyes, and then rudely turn away to attend to an itch between his legs.

After about three weeks of this, I couldn't take it anymore. I got down on my knees and literally begged Flynn to talk to me again. I have re-created the resulting conversation below. It represented an important breakthrough for Flynn and me, and I think you'll find it instructive.

Me: C'mon, boy, speak to me! Speak!

Flynn:
Arph?

Me:
Arph?
Because we need to talk about this. I'm going nuts with this.

Flynn:
Wuf wif
.

Me: I said I was sorry! You don't know how sorry I am.
Rü!
But there's something else going on here, isn't there? You can tell me, boy. This is your best friend talking. Please.
Roof
.

(long pause)

Flynn (softly):
Har hraugh rhuf whuf hrr
.

Me: What do you mean? I pay attention to you all the time!

Flynn:
Har hraugh
rhuf
whuf hrr
.

Me: Yeah,
rhuf
. We talk all the time, don't we? Or at least we used to.

Flynn:
Rhuf …
rhuf …
hurr
.

Me: Oh my God. I am such an idiot.

What I had only then realized was that when Flynn said to me, “You never pay attention to me anymore,” he was
employing a euphemism
! What he had meant was, “You never
pet
me anymore.” And I had completely missed it.

I had gotten so wrapped up in the idea of being able to talk to Flynn, and so comfortable discussing matters with him as an equal, I had completely forgotten that, when you get right down to it, Flynn was just a dog—a dog with the same physical and emotional needs as any dog. Words count for very little to a dog; actions speak much louder.

This is the most important lesson I can impart to you: it is not enough to talk to your dog; you must also
communicate
. I shudder to think that if Flynn had not opened up to me, I might have gone on hurting him indefinitely. Remember:
your
dog might not be as assertive.

Flynn and I talk less than we did at the beginning, but that's all right. We know that when we want to, or need to, we can. And it still comes in quite handy sometimes.

But other times, like on hot, firefly nights, when the stars seem so close you can catch them in your mouth, and the old porch swing creaks rhythmically back and forth with the crickets adding chirpy syncopation, and the slow, thick air smells a deep, dark purple, well, words are meaningless. Flynn has taught me that.

You can purchase the audiobook for your dog by sending $19.95 cash or money order plus $3.50 for postage and handling to: Talking Dog, P.O. 8745, Champaign, IL 61820. Flynn cautions that some of the growling on this tape may be too intense for younger dogs or more sensitive, miniature dogs
.

Acknowledgments

There are more than fifty pieces in this book, originally published over a twenty-year period, requiring the support and services of dozens of kind and talented people. Acknowledging everyone by name, even just the ones I'm still friends with, would be prohibitively time-and-space consuming, and so I ask their indulgence as I identify them by first initial:

A(3), B(2), C(3), D(9), G(2), I, J(6), K, M(2), P, R(4), S(3), T(2), and W.

Thank you all, especially one of the J's.

Addendum to the Acknowledgments

It has been brought to my attention that my previous acknowledgments might come off as seeming unprofessional, or “dickish.”
Jesus
. This is why I left them off the last book. Of course that didn't stop my friend Randy Klimpert from complaining that I quoted lyrics he may or may not have written without permission. I mean, I quoted a lot of lyrics without permission, and I don't hear Eric Clapton or David Bowie complaining.

Anyway.

This book would not have been possible if not for the tireless, brilliant, etc., efforts of my various editors, who were a joy to work with for the most part, and whose perceptive edits I have systematically reversed at my peril: Julia Just, Roger Angell, George Barkin, Diane Giddis, Sam Johnson, Chris Marcil, Ian Maxtone-Graham, David Kuhn, David Granger, Peter Griffin, Derek Haas, Cheston Knapp, and especially Susan Morrison, who edited the plurality of these pieces as she will many, many future ones, I hope. Abigail Holstein shepherded the collection itself, twisting and tweaking it into an actual book, and without her efforts there would be a lot more of a lot less. And Sarah Burnes, my brilliant agent, managed to sell the whole mess for an amount that will exceed its return by a goodly margin.