Parlez-vous puppy? Judith Woods learns to speak dog
Knowing a bark from a woof is the key to a happy canine. Luckily, Judith Woods is fluent
Do you talk terrier? Or speak schnauzer? Parlez-vous puppy? Communication is the key to all successful relationships and, according to researchers, our dogs are in constant dialogue with us.
But are we translating their barks, growls and yowls correctly? According to scientists at Eotvos Lorand University in Hungary, man’s best friend calls upon a rich lexicon of sounds to convey fear and fun, aggression and pleasure, and more often than not we understand.
A new study, featuring 40 volunteers listening to different growls recorded from 18 dogs, revealed that in 63 per cent of cases, humans were able to correctly identify whether the animal was guarding food, facing up to a threatening stranger or playing tug-of-war.
Women scored more highly than men. But then, I knew they would. And not just because I am a woman and therefore know everything.
In my case, I think it’s partly due to nature – women are biologically attuned to non-verbal baby noises – and partly down to nurture, in that I’m effectively in charge of them 24/7.
For the past two-and-a-half years, Otto and Mabel, our two Manchester terriers, have rampaged round the house, giving loud voice to their emotions, and as I work from home I have been (willingly or not) tuned in to every sound.
Lively and exuberant, Manchesters are a territorial breed, which is a euphemism for barky. Very, very barky. So much so, it’s sometimes hard to get a word in edgeways.
But by dint of sheer exposure,
I can instinctively identify each bark, whether bossily warding off an Amazon delivery man or joyfully greeting my husband.
I can tell when they are engaged in noisy, rambunctious chase games, happily woofing as they ricochet off furniture, or crooning as they jaw-spar one another with open mouths. Then, when the playfight turns into a fight-fight, I can detect that, too. Usually I leave them to sort any dispute out themselves, but if the sound changes, I’m on their case.
Otto is above Mabel in the pecking order, which is unusual because it’s generally an alpha female who rules the roost. The children get terribly upset when they see him staring at Mabel until she gets off the sofa; for her part, Mabel accepts her place in the hierarchy. But on those rare occasions when she stands firm and refuses to give way, that’s when I need to intervene and briskly assert my own top-dog status.
I know what’s coming when I hear the warning signs; the throaty growls become more serious, the snapping takes on a new pitch. I can’t explain how I know. I just do.
That’s all well and good for me, but not so much for the other family members, who are less versed in canine code. I expect them to know what each noise means, but I can’t actually explain the difference between a growl that means “Back off, I am defending this delicious pig’s ear from all comers” and one that says “I see a skateboarder and I’m feeling threatened”.
And so when the dogs misbehave the dynamic tends to be this: Otto snarls at Mabel, Mabel snaps at Otto, they both bark hysterically, the children scream at them and I let rip at everybody with biblical wrath. Mixed messages is the term that springs to mind. It is this erratic approach that can potentially lead to difficulties.
“I sometimes despair of the miscommunication between humans and dogs,” says Ade Howe, behaviouralist and author of Dog Training Without Treats. “This new research is over-simplistic, because dogs express a whole range of emotions that owners often cannot read.
“I’ve seen young dogs classed as ‘vicious’ and packed off to be put down. But when I see them, I can immediately identify that they were just very confused about the hierarchy and were nipping family members the way they would another puppy.”
According to Howe, the tone of barks and growls is crucial; the higher the pitch, the greater the excitement, while a lower timbre indicates aggression or fear.
“If you want to praise a dog, you should use a high tone,” he advises. “To tell a dog off, you need to drop your voice and emit something short and sharp, like a bark. I use the letter ‘A’; that’s all it takes for your dog to grasp that its behaviour has resulted in a negative consequence.”
It all makes perfect sense. Most of us instinctively use a higher register when happy and a lower tone for displeasure.
But one niggling question remains: is it more important that we understand our dogs or that they understand us?
“Dogs can learn a certain amount, but they haven’t got the capability of learning our language, so we have to learn theirs,” is the verdict of Nigel Reed, a dog psychologist who teaches owners to understand their pet’s needs and whose training guide, The Dog Guardian, is published next month.
“If you don’t pick up on your dogs’ concerns – whether they are anxious about joggers or postmen or visitors – and reassure them that you are in charge and will protect them, they will gain an overdeveloped sense of responsibility and feel stressed.”
So where does that leave me with Otto and Mabel, currently entwined and gently snoring in their shared basket? I realise that there is work to be done in pre-empting flashpoints, but for now I’ll follow the oldest rule in the book and let sleeping dogs lie.