Just asking. To me, they seem like they have an unexplainable sense of humor. So weird. :dubious:
It surely depends on what animal you’re asking about. Dogs, almost certainly. Cats, probably. Sea sponges, I’m going to say no.
Especially about dogs.
My dog seems to react positively to physical humour, from what I can tell.
For example, my brother went to kick a ball,missed and fell over.She started to wag her tail and move in a ‘happy’ manner. I may be just trying to see human qualities in her behaviour,though.
Some do; I recall reading that some apes appear to have an appreciation for what we’d call slapstick humor. They get the same kind of brain activity we do from such humor when seeing something like a fruit falling on another ape’s head. They don’t have the brain areas we have that let us appreciate higher forms of humor however (they are different than the ones involved in slapstick).
Cats do.
Sea sponges can be pretty funny.
Especially when they wear funny pants.
I once had a cat who would get a goofy look on his face and start doing silly things like attack the corner of the dishwasher or try to bite a wastebasket. I had the impression that he was deliberately being funny.
A former girlfriend and I once caught her cat coming back into the house in a suspicious manner. Girlfriend asked “What are you hiding?” and the cat responded “I have nothing to declare except my genius . . . and this dead bird.”
So, I’m gonna say no.
You mean, like, farts and such ? 
Anecdotally: I once knew a pony crazier than most horses (which is a feat in and of itself) whose stupid previous owners had taught to play cat and mouse. That is to say he had been trained to, if a human ran in front of him, run after them and bite them in the small of the back, then turn around and trot away. Of course, the beast didn’t know when it was time to play cat & mouse so he did it all the fucking time, to any human who moved ahead of him. Predictable result: the house’s little girl got bit too hard or once too many for her liking, and out went the pony to be foisted on the rescuing ranch where I met it.
Only sometimes, instead of doing the bite-and-run routine he’d just run after you, stick his nuzzle in the small of your back as usual and then just… stayed there, quietly breathing at your tuchas. If you didn’t move, he didn’t do anything either. The second you tried to move away or turn around, bite run away neighing.
I still wonder whether that was his little joke, or if he did that more along the lines of “Go ahead, asshole. Try to run. Make my day”. Or maybe he was just tired of being “forced” to run after people all the time and had found a way to catch a breather once in a while, I dunno.
Dolphins.
I was a programmer at a dolphin research project, and I also participated in the dolphin training. In between doing useful things, I played with the dolphins all day intermixed with the Calculus lessons.
One day my pen fell out of my pocket into the tank. One of the dolphins snatched it and swam out into the middle of the tank. This is a very bad thing because dolphins, brilliant Einstein intellects that they are, tend to be stupid about what things are okay to swallow.
I reached out over the water as far as I could, hoping to coax the dolphin to bring my pen back. Dolphin approached close enough to where I just barely couldn’t reach it, and sat there a while. When I tried to reach out for it, the dolphin tossed it back out toward the middle of the tank. Then swam out the the middle of the tank and got it.
Repeat.
Repeat again.
After that, I managed to snag it finally.
Now, do you think dolphins have a sense of humor?
One afternoon, after the training sessions, one of the trainers taught one of the dolphins to twirl a frisbee on the end of its snout. Apparently the dolphin thought this was a big kick, because that dolphin spent the rest of the afternoon and all night and most of the rest of the week, swimming around the tank, twirling a frisbee on its snout. By the next day, the other dolphin had picked it up too, and both of spent all their free time twirling frisbees. (Dolphins are extremely imitative.)
Then they got into the habit of putting the smaller frisbee inside the larger frisbee and twirling both of them at once.
We had to drill holes in all the frisbees, because the dolphins were fond of putting a frisbee over the drain so that the tank would overflow. Then they would swim around the outer edge of the tank at top speed, causing tsunami waves in the tank and flooding the surrounding deck.
It’s pure slapstick when they get together with squid and starfish.
Mundane though this may be, it does tend to have a point, so I’m going to move the thread to IMHO, where opinions may be successfully garnered and shared. And shit.
Snakes have a true gift of witty charm.
I saw a documentary a while ago about one of those super-intelligent bonobos, one of those that communicated with a picture board.
She apparently played slapstick type jokes on people, and even the dog. I think the “tap them when they’re not looking, then look away pretending it wasn’t you” sort of joke.
I also remember seeing in a nature documentary, young apes who would lean down from trees to pull the tails of lion cubs who were lying below. Then quickly scamper up the tree, shrieking with (apparently) laughter.
My dog has a sense of humor. He will retrieve a thrown object (stuffed toy, tennis ball, whatever), then come trotting back as if to give it to me to throw again. But as soon as I reach for it, he’ll take two quick steps back, snatching it out of my reach. If I put my arm down, he’ll lean forward with it again, but then again lean backward as soon as I reach out for it again. He will continue this ad infinitum, all the while with a gleeful grin on his face.
Okay, the gleeful grin might be a bit of anthropomorphism on my part. But the rest is pretty much factual.
In the book The Cowboy and His Elephant, the narrator mentions that they kept a goat to keep their baby elephant company, but the elephant occasionally got tired of being followed around by a critter that could not figure stuff out like the elephant could. So the elephant, Amy, would do things like lock the gate or move things around so the goat couldn’t get out of the paddock and follow her.
A creature which can do that has to be capable of humor.
One of my dogs, Bailey, has a juvenile sense of humor.
If I’m sitting at the computer desk, or otherwise not pay attention to her, she’ll often some up and silently sit by my side, staring upwards. When I turn to look at her, she’ll burp, and laugh afterwards; more accurately, it’s called expressive panting.
She’ll also fart and quietly sneak out of the room.