We’re always asking our animals “What, what? Did Timmy fall down the well? Too bad for Timmy.”
We say mean things to the animals all the time. We tell the four cats that they’ll make excellent mocassins if we can ever get around to skinning them. Now that a couple of them are so fat, we tell them that we can make extra pairs for the kids. Or that we are saving them for the next blizzard, because we could surely eat a couple of weeks with them around, even if we share with the dogs. I don’t know if they understand very many words because they basically do whatever they want after giving us looks of contempt. They do know their names and they understand the “everybody with fur goes downstairs” and “if you’re furry and you know it” songs that we sing to round them up at night. Herding cats can be done, if you spend about 7 years working on it.
The three dogs understand lots of the things we say, just because we always say the same things in the same situations, making them sort of like commands. Loki, our newest, is a 15 week old Golden Retriever. She’s picked up almost all of the common stuff just from hanging out with my eleven year old dog, Shane, and mr.stretch’s 7 month old Golden, Jake. All of our dogs are females and other people get confused when we say say, “Good girl, Jake/Shane/Loki!”
We have downstairs, upstairs, outside, dogyard and variations on the theme with tone of voice and added phrases depending on what we are trying to accompish–if it’s a question “Wanna go outside?” or a command “Let’s go outside” or “Outside” (depending on how they are acting and who/how many). And of course they know the important words like treat, cube (for ice cube), and greenie. “Wanna go for a ride/walk?” will get them all wound up tighter than a two-dollar toy in no time.
They seem to know when we are using the common words in reference to them or not. We can say I’m going out, or I’m going for a walk, or I’m hungry and not have them jump up. But if you sing the “How do you handle a hungry Jake?” song, they are at the bowl in a heartbeat!
I have a Siberian Husky, that talks back to me! If you know Sibes, then you should be familiar with their vocal attempts. I’ve distinctly heard ‘how are you’ come from her. One night on Dave Lettermans show, he did a stupid pet trick segment, and there was a dog…not a Sibe…that said the same thing! I almost fell off the couch! Thought I had the only talking dog.
I talk to my dog, sometimes. She responds, depending on what I say. If I (or anyone else, for that matter) say, “Let’s go!” in Korean, she goes nuts because she understand that it means I/my parents/my family am/is leaving. If someone says, “Let’s eat!” in Korean, she starts wagging her tail and jumping up and down. If I ask her, “Who’s a stupid dog?”, then she rolls on her back and paws at my face.
I talk to my dogs all the time. To my dogs who are full-grown, I talk to them like I would a grown person. But put me in a room with a puppy or two and I melt into “Ohhh, puppy, puppy, puppy! Who’s a cute puppy–you are!” in a high-pitched sing-songy cutesy voice. It’s odd though–I don’t talk baby talk to actual human babies. Not even my own!
A friend of mine has a dog that will say “I love you.” And I’ve heard of cats that can say “wet food” or “dry food.” I’m trying to teach my cat to say “Milk” so that I’ll know what the hell she wants when she goes on one of her long meowling fits. So far, she’s managed to get a distinct “meow” that she uses for when I’m rooting around in the fridge, but it’s definately not “milk” yet.
I am currently petless (when we’re on stabler financial ground I plan to adopt a Quaker parakeet), but I talk to animals. I like to feed the ducks at the park, and I keep up a constant stream of quiet chatter and singing while I do so; I don’t know why. The song is just babble with a sing-song rhythm: “A duck and a duck and a baby duck and me, and some geese and a crane and duck named Muscovy, and we’ve all got some bread and we’re sittin’ by a pond so I guess it’s a pretty good day.”
When you ask your cat a question, and he comes to see you, there’s more than meets the eye. The universal call of a mother cat to her kittens at mealtime is “Mrrrrrow?” The pitch rises at the end, just like when a human asks a question. The kitten’s response is hard-wired, instinctual, “I gotta go to Mom, it’s time to eat.” Cats retain that all their lives. When you first meet somebody else’s cat, give him a “Mrrrrrow?” (Remember to either roll the rr in the back of your throat or trill the tongue, Spanish style at the roof of the mouth, and raise the pitch at the end.) Wiggle your fingers and look away. The most aloof cat will come to see you. He can’t help it.
I talk to my dog all the time. She’s much more sensible than most of the people who surround me during the day.
She knows plenty of words–treat, walk, out, snuggle–but mostly she picks up unerringly on the emotional content behind the sounds she doesn’t recognize. If I’m upset and tense, she can tell it my voice. She sits, ears perked, and just listens while I pour out my stupid woes. Sometimes when I’m too quiet, upset beyond talking, she’ll fold back her ears and butt me with her head, just reminding me I’m part of a pack. That’s the cue for some fur therapy, i.e. romping or snuggling with my companion.
She’s right there when I’m happy too, tail spinning like a propeller and bouncing like a puppy. (She’s 8 yrs. old, and a big dog.) She loves my hideously discordant versions of “Brown Eyed Girl.”
She can also tell when I’m sick, even without words. A few times when I’ve been leveled with flu, shaking with feverish cold, she’s stretched out full length beside me in bed. Not curling into her tail-over-nose ball like usual, but sharing just as much warmth as possible. (At full extension, front to back paws in the ‘flying’ position we call Pupasus–she’s almost as long as I am.) ‘Pupasus’ is also the cue for a long, luxurious head-to-tail brushing. Boneless, blissful dog massage, complete with appreciative mumbles, croons and warbles.
She’s also very responsive to ‘cave’, her padded retreat under the computer desk where she curls up on my feet while I noodle around here, or waits out scary thunder storms.
I was just reading this thread in MPSIMS and reached down to stroke her ears. She yawned, smiled , then conked back out.
Our cats very definitely talk to us. If I’m not sitting with a proper lap, I get the annoyed “mrp” (very similar to a human’s “harumph”.) If I’m doing something and kitty can’t figure out how she fits into it, I get the inquisitive “mrp?” Then there’s the peremptory “MRP!” when kitty wants to run around and play RIGHT NOW. And of course, all the usual loud yowlings when a cat is on the wrong side of a door, or wants dinner right now. My husband’s cat is funny - she starts howling like her heart is breaking when she realizes that he has left her immediate vicinity. Then she eventually comes over to where he is, and all is right with the world again. And both cats will come over right away when we fake cry - very concerned-like.
We also like to put words in the cats’ mouths. Like when they’re howling at the bedroom door when they’ve been kicked out for the night - Jim’s cat is saying “Open this &(*%$ door RIGHT NOW or I’ll kill you both!!”, and my cat is saying “Please, if it’s not too much trouble, could you consider possibly opening the door?”
How could anyone not talk to their pets? They’re some of the nicest people around!
The four human people in the house talk to Whispurr (who really does have a soft meow and purr) and his brother Mango, but their new companion, our new Labrador/Airedale pup Chester, really gets talked to, probably because he’s new and we’re really working on his training.
Animals tend to understand a few words and possibly phrases and gestures/body language moreso.
When I ask my little 11# Shih Tzu if she wants to go for a ride in the car, at the word car she’s ready to get her leash and GO!
Go to the mailbox? or go for a walk?
Otherwise she will look at me and that is the only reaction that she appear to know I’m communicating something.
I’d like to know who DOESN’T talk to their pets? I do both the cutsey little baby talk (Youza my babbeee!!! My baby kitty kitty!!!) and regular, conversational things.
That is, when I’m not yelling at them. They’re so bad!
Spike definitely understands the word “no!” . He looks up at his with his huge kitten-y eyes like; “Oh no! Caught in the act!” He just pretends he doesn’t, so that he can blithely go back to doing whatever naughty thing we just told him not to do.
We sing to our cats, to the tune of the Mr. Hankey song:
Xaaaaaander, the WonderCat,
I like to wear him as a hatput cat on your head until he mews indignantly, then cuddle him close to your chest
Or, our favourite:
*Come toooo the place where tropical breezes blooooow
Come toooo the coolest place I know
The kitties are so great
but really there’s only Xander
and that means he’s so great
and also there is Spike
Spiiiiiiiiiiiiiike
in the place where tropical breezes blow
Spiiiiiiiiiiiiiiike
in the coolest place I know
the food bowls always full
and the laser pointers shine all night
and there’s prolly lots of catnip
and then the kitties purrr…*
Xander whines all the time when we’re in the act of feeding him, as though he’s saying; “Took you long enough!” We always admonish him not to whine, but Spike’s started doing it too. His big brother is a bad influence.
I’m another one who’s been willing to talk to my dogs anytime I feel the need to share my wit with them. I’m also apologizing. They know if I’ve got my hands full of bags, and say ‘excuse me,’ it’s time to move.
Of course, if you think about it, a dog, at least, can understand a working vocabulary of up to about 100 words. Or at least nouns or verbs. I’ve had a dog who understood such concepts as ‘hot food’ (One burned tongue was all she needed.) ‘Vitamin P’ (Pizza, of course. Don’t you know that your dog needs vitamin P in their diet to be healthy? She sure did.) or ‘Pester someone else.’ What scares me is that the difference between a one hundred word vocabulary and what was used by Dr. Suess isn’t all that much. :eek:
My cat used to answer to “stupid,” and call me with a particularly plaintive, pathetic “mew” when she needed me to move a stool over so she could jump up onto the chair she always slept and shed on. I’d mutter curses at her.
She was also the “person” I’d talk to when I needed the “This is stupid, get over it” snub.
One of my classmates actually calls her parents just to talk to her cat, Bubba, who answers tonally. It’s quite impressive.
I always talk to my cat, TJ, I usually call him bubby. Whenever I pet him or talk to him, he always answers me back with his usual Meowr. He’s an indoor/outdoor cat, so now that it’s cold, he can’t go outside. Up until it snowed and got really cold, he’d stand there and meow at the door and I’d say, “Now, you know it’s cold out there and you’re gonna regret it if you go out.” Then I’d let him out and two minutes later he’d be scratching to get back in, and then of course I’d say, “I told you so.”
He also thinks he’s starving to death if his bowl is not completely full. If there’s only a little bit of food left in the bowl, he feels he’s too good to eat it. Then I lecture him about how spoiled he is.
My brothers call me the “crazy cat lady.” haha. But, hey, this thread proves it, everyone talks to their pets.
This is why you all need a parrot. Typical morning, as I’m trying to get dressed:
Murphy: 'Hi-i!"
Me: “Hi, Murph.”
M: “Hi. Hi. HI. Screech. Murphy love you.”
Me: “Hi. Yum yum! Breakies!”
M: “How are you!?”
Me: “I’m fine. . . how are YOU!?”
M: “Whadd’re’ya DOing?”
Me: "Well, I’m trying to find me socks and. . nevermind. . . bird. . "
Murphy: “Bon-JOURRRRRR! Bye bye! See ya later!”
Oh so cute. His 2-year old child-like use of “NO! STOP! You’re being NAUGHTY” and also 2-year old child-like picking-up of “fuck you” is less ideal, but still highly entertaining.
Well dogs understand a ton of verbal commands (obviously not the linguistics of the word or command itself, but the tone and raw “sound” obviously register inside their animal brains.
No the problem with my dog is he doesn’t perfectly understand the difference between one word in one situation and the same word in another.
Like if I tell my wife “I’m going out to get a pizza” typically the dog will perk up a little bit then lay its head back down.
Now, I have a dog that comes to me and will sit patiently at my feet when it wants something. For these occasions I have a tone of voice I take and a way of saying things. I’ll say “want to go outside” and instantly illicits a huge and boisterous reponse if that’s what he wants. If not, it gets a much smaller response. If I ask if it wants food and that’s what it wants, it responds boisterously.
It’s amazing the level of real communication you can establish with a canine.
Based on the tone of my voice and my vocalizations it can clearly respond to questions in the affirmative or the negative.
But again, since it is just a dog it will sometimes hear me say “ride” in the wrong connotation and respond to it eventhough the tone isn’t the same as when I’m telling the dog it’s time to go on a ride (my dog responds differently to “lets go for a ride/walk” and “lets go out”, the dog only responds to let’s go out when he needs to use the bathroom, and responds to let’s go for a ride/walk almost always.)
I talk to my cat frequently. I know she doesn’t have the slightest idea what I’m saying. On a few occasions, though, when I talk to her in a questioning tone, she’ll look around as if to try to find out what I want.
