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I lived in Japan for a while. I went to teach English and came armed arrogantly with nothing. No knowledge of their customs or language. No reasonable image of the place - just a general understanding that ninjas, sumos and extraordinarily wide-eyed comic characters lived there. I wanted to go with no preconceived notions. I succeeded there.

There are some real parallels to my initial experience overseas and how we relate to our dogs. Other cultures have their own language and communication and we have ours. There are overlaps or similarities. And there are troughs and disparities. We may perceive something very basic to translate perfectly enough, and often we’re rewarded. But sometimes we get unexpected reactions because our wires get crossed.

Unintended communication  

From my first trying day where I had to helplessly guide a patient waiter outside a restaurant and point feebly to the plastic display of look-alike food in the window, I pieced together some very remedial Japanese. In my first few months, my limited Japanese, lead inevitably, to a lot of sign language and motioning. I found that non-verbal language too, can offer some surprising responses that are worth . . . well . . . talking about. The motion that we Westerners use to wave someone or something away – palm facing down and a furtive flap of the fingers – meant the exact opposite there. As you can imagine, this lead to multiple confusions when kindly people wishing to practice their English and welcome me saw my rather startled and pained expression.

What was clear to me to be a very direct gesture to mean one thing meant the absolute opposite to my Japanese friends, who found it equally impossible that I should understand anything other than what they’d intended.

Pantomime excited silliness with your hands over their head and a dog may perceive a threat. Stare lovingly into a dog’s eyes and they may feel challenged. A direct gaze held purposefully to animals can indicate something very different than it does from one human to another. Yell for your dog to come back and all they may hear is that you’re shouting. Not, perhaps, a great invitation to return.

Sit. Stay. Come. Off. No. They’re all common words our dogs know. Many dogs have quite considerable vocabularies, and I truly believe we don’t give them enough credit for their potential – if you doubt this, check out this quick video of Chaser, the dog who knows 1000 words and uses deduction to fill in the blanks of what he doesn’t know.

 We all have a second language

But what the average dog really responds to are visual cues. Your posture. A hand gesture. You may or may not be conscious of all of the cues you give. But your dog is watching casually – unless you have a collie, in which case there’s nothing casual about it. Years ago, at a consultation, a client mentioned to me that his dog knew whether it was a weekday or a weekend. Yet, he said, he couldn’t figure out how. This changed when one morning as he was combing his hair. He caught a glimpse of his dog in the mirror. As soon as he saw his human buddy bring comb to head, he sighed deeply, relaxed his shoulders and turned to lie in the hall. That was it. The simple cue that told him they weren’t immediately going to the park, but just for a quick on-leash stroll around the block. His owner had never noticed before and never put the two events together.

Watch and learn

Dogs have become our best friends because they’ve watched us for eons. For centuries, even thousands of years ago when they would exist on the outskirts of communities, looking for scraps in what would amount to a trade for protection, dogs have learned about us and studied our mannerisms perhaps more than we have theirs. What they can tell us – and each other – with their body language is really important for every dog owner to know. It’s something every one of our employees learns in training before they join us. Some of the signs are subtle. Some aren’t. You may have seen this Dog-to- English crib sheet on our Pinterest page. If you haven’t, it’s worth a peek. If you’re speaking to your dog, there is a limit to his or her vocab – unless he’s Chaser, of course.

But how you speak to them is something they have internalized over millennia of hanging out with us.

There's a ton of meaning in tone

Using up-speak at the end of a command as though forming a question will convey to a dog exactly what it conveys to us. “Sit?”, suggest that you’re not telling a dog to do anything. You’re requesting. They may consider it. And they may not. Likely not. Repeating a command over and over in a short space of time will also receive diminishing results. It’s a common malady, the repetition of commands. It’s easy to fall into. But it’s a bit like speaking English louder in a foreign country to improve their understanding. Use a command with a hand gesture. Use it once directly. Pause. Hold yourself confidently. Take your time. It’s not always easy to remember when your dog – or another – is being an imp. But it’s amazing how much better the lines of communication get when you do.

You may be in for a surprise

One client claimed his dog had a name for him. I thought at first that he may himself be soon claimed by people in white suits and a butterfly net. But he persisted. His dog had a bark that he only used only when he was around. His family confirmed it. They never heard it when he wasn’t around. I have to admit, it sounds a bit like a name to me. When we ask our dogs to listen to us, perhaps it’s just as important that we watch and listen to them. Watch their cues and they’ll thank you too. You’ll never fully understand your dog, and he’ll never fully understand you – after all, you trail behind him with a poop bag picking up after him – but he loves you anyway. But watching him more carefully, you may learn something you’d never noticed – and never expected. That’s really the fun of it all.

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