Let’s talk about communication – this has been the best crash course

Communication is arguably the most important skill of our daily life and most humans spend very little energy on improving it.

Pinot has been the best crash course.

A puppy doesn’t speak English. Over time they can learn to associate words or inflections of tone with actions, but they do not speak English.

A puppy is also never wrong; the human hasn’t communicated properly. 

We don’t blame the baby when it pushes its food around the plate with their hands, so why would we blame a puppy for nipping at your hand? Babies discover the world through their hands and puppies discover it through their mouths. 

It my job as the human to discover a way to communicate with Pinot. 

That’s not an easy job. 

Like when she’s constantly eating tree-seeds (aka my term for those helicopter-like pieces that fall off trees constantly) on our walk even though a few days prior she threw up from eating too many. Pinot doesn’t understand me telling her they will make her sick. She doesn’t understand why I keep saying ‘drop it’ or physically pulling them out of her mouth. 

She just knows that they taste good and they are yummy to chew on. Also, she’s probably rebelling over the fact I don’t want her to have them; she’s my dog after all. 

Or she knows that if she physically releases the tree-seed after I say ‘drop it,’ she gets a treat. I’m slightly convinced half the seeds she picks up are because she wants to trade them for a yummy salmon-flavored treat.

Teaching her to drop something was a feat in-and-of itself. Pinot is very food-motivated and immediately loses interest in what she’s doing when she realized I have food. It took weeks of spread out repetition and hidden treats throughout the house, but we learned together.

How I say something matters more than what I am saying. 

I can say ‘drop it’ or ‘leave it’ when she has a seed in her mouth, and she’ll drop it either way as long as I say with the same inflection. She’s more likely to ‘sit’ if I use a calmer more authoritative tone, just as she’s more likely to ‘come’ if I use an excited happy tone.

No matter how many times I tell Pinot to ‘chill’ when we see a squirrel, she doesn’t understand that even though she’s incredibly fast she’ll probably never catch the squirrel. Especially when she’s attached to a 5-foot leash. But I love her repeated attempts and determination.

Expecting her to learn English is like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole. It’s my job to grab a chisel and create a new hole.

Pinot wants to understand me, you can physically see her try to figure out what the human is saying because she wants to make me happy. 

The adorable head tilt, those heart-melting brown eyes staring deeply into mine, the perk of her ears so they point towards my mouth instead of flopping down on either side of her head.

And each time she gets something right, you can see the pride in the stride of her gait after my excitement and praise. 

That’s the beauty; when I take the time to set her up for success, it’s equally rewarding for both of us.