We could all use a little doggy wisdom

I recently participated in a psychological exercise involving the manipulation of buttons on a small control module as various images flashed across a large screen. Okay, so I was watching TV. But while doing so, I happened upon an interesting documentary about animal behavior. Although worried the title was again in regard to the recent election, I decided to chance it.

The documentary suggested that just as we humans are striving to learn more about our four-legged-friend, the dog, dogs are doing quite the same in regards to us. In fact, it went on to describe the dog as a furry little scientist who spends his life studying human behavior.

It makes perfect sense – and it explains why my dog carries a little note pad around.

Do you ever catch your dog staring at you — just staring … and staring … still staring — for no apparent reason? What’s going through his mind? Is he waiting for a snack? Or is he thinking something along the lines of the following: "9:03 p.m. Subject ‘Dave’ hasn’t moved in two hours. ‘SpongeBob SquarePants’ marathon on TV. Is there a relationship? More information needed."

And why do you think dogs sleep so much during the day? Are they really that bored? Is it simply that they have nothing better to do? Or, could it be they’re tired after having stayed up the night before analyzing data?

Two nights ago I decided to test my theory. At precisely 11:30 p.m., I sneaked quietly out of my room and into the hallway. I could see the flickering light of a candle and hear the scratching of pencil on paper. This went on for nearly an hour, the sound broken only when my dog took a break to snack on a cracker with a slice of Wensleydale cheese, a favorite of this particular breed, and to sip a particularly good cabernet.

At precisely 12:25 a.m., the candle was extinguished. Moments later I heard her familiar snoring and I crept toward her bed. There I discovered a file on which was written: "Myers, David; A Case Study in Human Behavior."

I ever-so-gently pulled it out from under paw, sweat forming on my brow. I only once became unnerved, when, lost in a pleasant dream, she uttered, "I’m runna ret me some Ribbles and Rits."

The file in hand, I crept back to my room, closed the door and turned on the light. For the sake of space, I will include only a few submissions:

"Oct. 1; 10:45 p.m.: Subject ‘Dave’s’ agitation was heightened today when he found the Cheese Doodle sack void of Doodles save one. Are all humans so easily undone? Must consult with ‘Muffin’ next door. Subject’s lack of hole-digging, rubber toy chewing, and cat chasing may explain foul temper. If we could find a way to train humans in such rudimentary therapy, leftovers may be forthwith."

"Oct. 14; 10:59 p.m.: Subject’s piano playing has left me depressed and void of want. Doggy biscuits carry no pleasure. Cats fear me not. Should such sounds – which continue to pound my skull long after the noise has ceased – resume tomorrow, I will consider donating myself to scientific experiments."

"Oct. 23; 3 p.m.: Subject has been at the computer for three hours, causing alarming physical change. Eyes are red. Back is hunched. Fingers extend like claws. After two hours, he began to resemble a large toad; after three, a buzzard. Fearing for my safety, I retreated to my bed. If the transformation continues to a sub-human level and I find myself in harm’s way, it should be noted that I have a sister in Liberal."

"Nov. 6; 11:01p.m.: Tonight I find myself in the proverbial ‘doghouse.’ Subject ‘Dave,’ who sends perhaps three electronic messages every day, became enraged after I sent a Pee-mail on his new porch rug. Should ‘Sarge,’ the lab across the alley, come to call, he will read that I am doing well, not to mention high in iron supplements. Tomorrow I will amend the message to include today’s tribulation."

As you can well imagine, I was stunned. I mean, is my piano playing really that bad? Besides, what does she do all day? Sleep, run around in the yard, play with an old boot like it’s her best friend in the world, bark at people walking by, love us unconditionally despite all our failings ....

You know, maybe the world could learn a lesson or two from our four-legged friends.