Platinum, Teddy and Olive. Whenever their owner takes just one of them to the car, they know immediately that they are going to the vet's. Photo: Anne Chua
Walking to the supermarket the other morning, I spotted a large dog trotting down the path with her mum. Taking in the generous barrel body, little ears, gleaming short coat and huge happy smile, I thought to myself what a nice dog it was.
As if by magic, the dog’s ears pricked up. Ignoring the people around us, she made a beeline for me. Two seconds later I’m rubbing her ears and she’s dancing on her toes, introducing herself. As I don’t speak Canine, her mum told me this was Skye.
As we chatted, I wondered privately how on earth Skye had decided that from all the people on that path, I’d be amenable to an ear rub.
It reminded me of a series of strange incidents involving Lucy, our family dog. Our Lucy had a rough start – she was dumped on the motorway in summer, probably by a family who couldn’t be bothered to board her when they went on holiday.
Lucy was sweet, adorable with babies and cats, and very keen on snacking. She also had a peculiar talent: If I were sitting in the garden, thinking it was a beautiful day, just perfect for a walk, Lucy would go fetch her leash.
It wasn’t once or even twice; Lucy did this often. While I adore (TV characters) Buffy and Lucifer, I’m not into the supernatural outside of fiction. Lucy’s seeming ability to read my mind baffled me, and now Skye was doing the same.
Curious about this, I talked to Anne Chua, a pet lover in Subang Jaya, Selangor, who owns a brood of furries. There is Platinum, a seven-year-old poodle who was adopted from PAWS, Teddy a four-year-old poodle who was adopted via friends; and Olive a three-year-old Shih Tzu who was also adopted via friends.
As Chua’s beloved Yoda passed away in January this year, she recently took in a new rescue, Bullet, a Toy Poodle who is now almost a year old.
“Do dogs read minds? Absolutely!” Chua exclaims. “They know exactly what we’re thinking, I’m convinced of it.”
So how does that work?
“Teddy has mites sometimes,” Chua confides. “It’s no big deal, but the second I think I should apply some medicine and reach for a cotton wool bud, Teddy is nowhere to be found.
“It’s the same with brushing. When I think it’s time for a quick groom, Olive is there because she enjoys being brushed. But Platinum and Teddy don’t like it. I just think of reaching for the brush and they’re off.”
While this is smart, the giveaways are clear: The dogs see their mum pick up a bud or brush and they make the connection because they have plenty of experience in having their ears and fur tended to.
So what about the dog nightmare, meaning a trip to the vet?
“When we go out, they jump all over,” Chua muses. “They don’t know that we’re going to the vet until we are in the car. It’s not just the direction we go in.
“When I take just one of them to the car, they know immediately that we’re seeing the vet. They start shaking before I switch on the engine.”
These stories make it clear that Platinum, Teddy and Olive know their mum, and they pick up on tiny behavioural clues. They are gathering evidence, recognising patterns, and coming to logical conclusions. It’s not mind reading; it is intelligence.
Skye probably saw me smile at her, and took that as a sign that we’d be friends. Also, I smell of cats. I’m not sure how far dogs can smell or see fur, but with three furries at home, and all of them sleeping in my wardrobe, I’m probably an olfactory sensation.
Mind you, it doesn’t explain how Lucy could know I was thinking about walks. At the time I was very certain I never said a word or picked anything up, mostly because I’d be outside and her leash was inside, in the cloakroom.
But considering it now, I am thinking I might have examined it from the wrong angle. Lucy was super keen on walks, and she knew I was often up for one. So what if she saw me sitting there, doing nothing, and decided it was the perfect time to ask for a walk?
Then her bringing her leash wasn’t mind-reading; it was a suggestion along the lines of, “If you’ve not busy, how about us going out for an adventure?” Then, because it worked once, she would do it over and over again.
It makes good sense in terms of plausible behaviour and although it’s probably the correct solution, I find myself a little sad at the idea that dogs don’t have extra sensory perception.
So for now, I’m going to tuck that logical knowledge away and focus on the most important fact of all: If smiling at dogs means I get to pat them, that’s pawsome.
Adopt Me
Photo: KL Pooch Resort and Rescue/Shannon Lam
Yuki is a sweet Shepherd mix who is about six years old. She is vaccinated, sterilised, and in good health. This big girl is wonderful with humans and other dogs. She is cheerful, calm and confident, so a pleasure to be around. Yuki also walks well on a lead, so she’s great at going for walks.
Interested adopters please WhatsApp Shannon at the KL Pooch Resort and Rescue Foundation in Kalumpang, Selangor (012-222 4368).
