Communicating dogs are most demanding

CATS have over 100 vocal sounds while dogs have only about 10. There, did you know that? Yet according to Japanese scientists, dogs rather than cats are likely, one day, to converse with their owners.

Indeed, scientists at Kiyomi Hoshikawa, Tokyo, 10 years ago managed to convert doggy barks, growls and whines into English.

The scientists claimed to have interpreted barks into phrases such as “I can’t take much more of this”, “I’m annoyed”, “I’m happy”, “I’ve done it” and “I’m bored”.

The transistorised unit that does the interpretation clips on to the dog’s collar. It was supposed to come on to market in 2004 for about R1 500 but was not a great success.

Now a Scandinavian firm is developing a similar product.

The Japanese researchers analysed 2 000 sounds from 14 breeds and converted them into 100 phrases which is probably enough for a poodle to get elected to parliament.

They’d certainly be more articulate than one or two current honourable members and, apart from peeing against the benches, would be better mannered.

My late wife insisted at the time that I sent for one of these devices. It duly arrived.

The instructions read: “Fixate clip-on to collar of dog and switch ‘ON’ for results of great pleasing.”

I wanted it for my Maltese, Rags. When I say “my” Maltese it was not really my dog at all, you understand. It was my daughter’s. I would never own a Maltese but, by default, I had become its custodian.

The cunning and interfamily chicanery that was involved in bringing about this situation is all too fresh and painful in my memory to recount.

I had hardly clipped the device into place when Rags said: “What’s this then?”

I tried to explain but clearly his tiny mind could not wrap around words such as “audio-receptor transponder”.

I switched to something more basic and asked why he had messed on the lawn when he knew perfectly well that he was a bad boy to do so.

He ignored this and said: “It’s amazing! We can converse! Now I can tell you how much I hate Beefies and how chicken is my favourite food – especially the white meat and I don’t mind the skin – but I prefer it warm and with a bit of gravy and not too much skin and…”

I interrupted and pointed out to him this was too singular an occasion to spend talking about his stomach.

“Why? Is there something more important?” he growled.

Later he began to interrupt my conversations, so I threw the device away. This upset my wife. I can’t think why – after all, she and Rags would communicate all day (“Does Ragsy-wagsy want some foody-woody?”) – so why the machine?

My wife said she wanted it not for Rags’ collar but for mine.

I would hate to leave the impression that I don’t like dogs.

I certainly do. It’s just yappy dogs that I dislike.

I know some men prefer owning a dog to being married.

Earlier this year, Richard Stewart sent me a list of reasons why this is so. (If Richard is married he’ll probably, by now, be in the dog’s box.)

Some male readers have added to his list of the advantages of having a dog instead of a wife: Dogs don’t expect you to telephone them when you’re running late; they love it when your friends come over; they think you sing beautifully; the later you are, the greater the welcome when you come home; they love it when you leave things on the floor; their parents never visit; dogs never expect gifts; and they find you amusing when you’ve had a few.