From Amazon
Separate chapters devoted exclusively to interpreting the movement of tails, ears, and bodies are fascinating, and can often provide surprisingly quick insight into canine behavior. There's a tremendous difference between showing affection and showing dominance, and humans have a strong tendency to misread our dogs' behavior and reward them in exactly the right way to ensure the continuation of frustrating behavior. Coren maintains that dogs can often learn far more words than we give them credit for--certainly, we've all seen pooches go bananas at the words walk and cookie, but he also suggests we watch for learned behaviors from certain words. Perhaps office gets your spaniel waiting by the door, or baby results in your terrier checking in on your child's location--you may just think it's cute, but actually, it's a sign of your dog's linguistic ability.
Whether you own a dog or two or work in the field of animal care, this manual will be a most informative read and is sure to have a positive effect on the relationship between you and man's best friend. --Jill Lightner --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
From Library Journal
Copyright 2000 Reed Business Information, Inc. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
Review
Ranny Green The Seattle Times A must-read for all dog owners....This could be one of the most important literary purchases you ever make.
Book Description
At long last, dogs will know just how smart their owners can be. By unlocking the secrets of the hidden language of dogs, psychologist Stanley Coren allows us into the doggy dialogue, or "Doggish," and makes effective communication a reality.
Drawing on substantial research in animal behavior, evolutionary biology, and years of personal experience, Coren demonstrates that the average house dog can understand language at about the level of a two-year-old human. While actual conversation of the sort Lassie seemed capable of in Hollywood mythmaking remains forever out of reach, Coren shows us that a great deal of real communication is possible beyond the giving and obeying of commands.
How to Speak Dog not only provides the sounds, words, actions, and move-ments with which we can effectively communicate with our dogs, but also deciphers the signs that our dogs give to us. With easy-to-follow tips on how humans can mimic the language dogs use to talk with one another, original drawings illustrating the subtleties of their body language, and a handy visual glossary and "Doggish" phrasebook, How to Speak Dog gives dog lovers the skills they need to improve their relationships with their pets.
About the Author
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
The argument was very sound,And coming from a master's mouth
Would have been lauded for its truth.
But since the author was a hound,
Its merit went unrecognized.
-- Jean de La Fontaine (16211695)
"The Farmer, the Dog, and the Fox"
It is probably the case that virtually every human being has, at one time or another, wanted to be Dr. Dolittle, or to own King Solomon's ring, so that he or she could understand and talk with animals. For me, the animals that I most wanted to speak to were dogs. I remember one Sunday evening, I was sitting on the living-room floor in front of the big family radio with my beagle, Skippy. I was leaning against the side of an overstuffed chair waiting for a regularly scheduled radio show featuring my favorite movie star. The theme music started -- I think it was actually the folk tune "Green Sleeves" -- and then a few moments later I could hear her voice. She was barking in the distance and coming closer every second...
Long before our current wave of canine movie stars, such as Benji and Beethoven, and their television counterparts, Eddie, Wishbone, and the Littlest Hobo, there was Lassie. She was much more than a dog; she was a friend and devoted companion. She was a guardian of the right, a courageous protector, and a fearless fighter.
The dog that may have done the most to shape the popular conception of dogs and their intelligence was a character born in a short story published in the Saturday Evening Post by Eric Knight in 1938. The story was so well received that Knight later expanded it into a best-selling book in 1940, and in 1943, it was translated into a heartwarming tearjerker of a movie called Lassie Come Home. It was filmed in rich colors and set in Britain, where Lassie's poor family is forced by their financial troubles to sell their faithful collie to a wealthy dog fancier (whose daughter is played by a very young Elizabeth Taylor). Lassie escapes from the Duke of Rudling's harsh kennel keeper and manages to work her way from Scotland to England to get home to her young master (who is played by Roddy McDowall). The role of Lassie was not portrayed by a lovely female dog at all, but by a male dog named Pal. In fact, all of the Lassies ever since have been female impersonators. Male collies were preferred to play the part, since they are larger and less timid than female collies. More important, when an unspayed female dog goes into heat (which they do twice a year), she often loses much of her coat. It would be very distressing to movie watchers, and it would be a film editor's nightmare, to have the fullness of Lassie's coat vary from one scene to another.
Gender issues aside, Lassie had a huge impact on our concept of how dogs think and act. This was partly due to the volume of material about her that we were exposed to. So far there have been ten feature films showing her exploits. In these Lassie managed to upstage some of the greatest stars in Hollywood, including James Stewart, Helen Slater, Nigel Bruce, Elsa Lanchester, Frederic Forrest, Mickey Rooney, and many others. There was also a TV show which ran from 1954 through to 1991 (with a few interruptions), using six different settings and rotations of cast. At times, Lassie's families included such familiar actors as Cloris Leachman and June Lockhart. Many of these episodes are still appearing on television in syndicated reruns today. There was even a Lassie cartoon series (Lassie's Rescue Rangers) that played on Saturday morning TV for the kids.
Perhaps Lassie's most unusual starring role was in a radio series, which ran from 1947 through 1950, and I was one of her young fans. I'll bet that given the media mentality of today, producers of a radio series involving a dog might argue that it was necessary to give Lassie a human voice, so that we could hear her thoughts and know what she wanted to say. It would be a soft female voice, of indeterminate age, perhaps with a slight Scottish accent to remind us of her origin. These early radio episodes, however, were true to the character of Lassie on the screen. She never spoke human language, she barked. It is interesting to note that Pal actually did the barking on the radio show; however, the whining, panting, snarling, and growling were all convincingly done by human actors.
One part of the magic of the show was that Lassie did not have to speak in English, Spanish, German, French, or any other human tongue. Her family and everybody who heard her understood her completely. An episode might typically go like this.
Lassie runs out into the field, barking and whimpering frantically.
Her young master asks, "What's wrong, girl?" and Lassie barks.
"There's something wrong with Mom?" he interprets, and Lassie barks and whimpers.
"Oh no -- she's hurt herself! Dad told her not to use that machine by herself. You go get Dr. Williams. I saw him stopping by the Johnson place just a little bit down the road. I'll go back to see if I can help."
The boy runs across the field toward home. Lassie barks and races off for help. The doctor will, of course, understand every bark and whine and come to the rescue as well.
In other episodes and at other times, Lassie's barks tell of bad men coming, of hidden or stolen goods, or alerts her master that someone is either lying or speaking the truth. It seems that Lassie speaks a universal speech. There is one episode with a boy from France, who comes to live with his uncle after his family dies tragically. This poor child speaks no English. Fortunately, he doesn't have to. Lassie speaks the universal language of dogs (let's call it "Doggish"). He, of course, understands it immediately, since apparently all French dogs use the same language. Because of this, Lassie is able to tell him (with more barks, whimpers, whines, and an occasional muted growl) that he has come to a place where people want to be his friends, although there is one bad boy he should watch out for. Lassie comforts him, integrates him into the community, settles some misunderstandings between him and the local children, and then teaches him his first few words of English, which are, of course, "Lassie, you are a good dog!"
I really felt jealous of Lassie's family and neighbors. They could all understand the language of dogs, and they knew how to make their own dog understand exactly what they were saying as well. I fondled Skippy's long, leathery ears and wondered why I was so linguistically inept.
It's not that I couldn't understand anything that Skippy was trying to tell me. When his tail wagged, I knew that he was happy. When his tail was tucked under his belly, I knew that he was feeling poorly. When he barked, I knew that someone was coming, or that he wanted to eat, or that he wanted to play, or that he was excited... Well, he barked a lot. When he bayed (that little yodeling sound that beagles make), I knew that he was happily tracking something. The linguistic failings were not Skippy's, they were mine. Sometimes my dog would be incredibly innovative in telling me what he wanted. There was the day he deliberately pushed his water dish across the kitchen floor until it banged against my shoe, just to tell me that he was thirsty and the bowl was empty. Still, most of the time I just couldn't understand what he was saying and our lack of communication made me very sad. Now, after many years of research and study, I think I am beginning to understand the language of my canine friends. As a psychologist, I have also come to realize how an understanding of dog communication can affect human-dog relationships.
In humans, language often appears to be the single most important element in determining successful social relationships and general adjustment. When you look at the research on the relationship between children with disabilities and their families, you find that love and affection can be fostered and maintained even though the child suffers from massive problems, as long as the child can speak and understand language at a useful level. The families of children who have many fewer difficulties, but whose language ability is impaired, report more severe social and adjustment problems, and seem to feel less affection and more frustration with the child. Similarly, several studies have shown that the single most important factor in determining whether an immigrant or refugee will integrate well into their new society is the speed and proficiency with which they learn the language of their new country. In much the same way, a human's ability to understand the language of the dog can determine how well the dog is accepted into the family.
Misreading a dog's emotional state can be distressing for its human family, and can even be fatal for the dog. Consider the case of Finnigan, a beautiful Irish setter from a kennel run by a woman named Melanie. I knew Melanie as a careful breeder, whose conscientiousness had allowed her to create a line of dogs that were not only physically handsome but also warm, playful, and tolerant. With that in mind, you can imagine Melanie's distress when she received a phone call from the family that had bought Finnigan. They complained that he was too aggressive. They said he was leaping and snarling at visitors and other dogs. When these problems arose, the family had called in a trainer, but he had found the dog difficult to handle and failed to eliminate these aggressive displays. In the end, he had recommended that the dog be euthanized. The family didn't want to do this, but felt they couldn't keep him under the circumstances. Melanie offered a refund of the purchase price and asked that the dog be sent back to her.
Then she called me up. "I've never really had to deal with an aggressive dog before," she said. "I was wondering if you could be with me when I go to pick him up -- just in case there's something I can't handle."
I couldn't imagine one of her dogs being aggressive, but the worry in her voice was such that I agreed. I was there to help pick Finnig...