Writers & Dogs

I am as confounded by dogs as I am indebted to them. 

                                              ~ Roger Caras

I share my life with two dogs, Jack & Joey.  Jack was a rescue I adopted in 2006. In the weeks and months following the death of my partner in 2011, he saved my life.  I cannot imagine how lonely my apartment would have been without Jack there to greet me every night, or sleep next to me.

This past July, Joey joined our household.  He was just five weeks old, born on a farm, and he was placed in my arms with a homemade twine leash by two teenage girls who used the annual Delhi Daze to find homes for Joey and his siblings.  It took less than five minutes for the four puppies to be snatched up.

I would never have thought of myself as the proud dog person I have become.  I would never imagined my dogs would become my muses (oh, how I despise that word), but their snuffling and romping and furry selves show up regularly in my poetry.

Today, however, Joey tested the writer. 

Like any writer, I have books.  Lots of books.  This week, I received a copy of Tim Gunn's latest fashion book (confession: I have seen every episode of Project Runway) and 'The Shape of Poetry' signed by one of my poetic mentors, Peter Meinke.  The books were on the coffee table, but while I was working, Joey dragged them into the bedroom and made confetti of Mr. Gunn (in fashion, one day you're in, the next, you're a dog toy).  Poetry did not taste as good; Meinke's book suffered only a couple of tooth marks.

Sure, I raised my voice while picking up the shredded pages; scolding Joey for such a desecration.  Then we went for a walk in the brisk autumn afternoon, my anger forgotten, and now he's sleeping at my feet as I write this. You can only forgive a face like Joey's.  You can only see poems in those sad, brown eyes.

Turn Style - Andy Murray's Dogs Wear Olympic Silver and Gold Medals

In Sunday's surprising straight sets beatdown of world #1 Roger Federer, Scotsman Andy Murray won the Olympic gold medal in tennis in front of a "hometown" London crowd. A couple of hours later, he won the silver medal for Britain in mixed doubles with his partner Laura Robson.

Sometime after that, Murray's pet border terriers sported his Olympic booty for the camera, and the pair looked pretty damn adorable doing so. The picture below was posted online by Maggie May, one of the terriers who apparently has her own Twitter handle and more than 10,000 followers.

If this doesn't soften Andy's sometimes crusty and curmudgeonly image in the tennis world, I'm not sure what else he can do.

Murray's pups - Rusty (silver) and Maggie May (gold).

Andy with medals and the Union Jack.

Turn Style posts highlight compelling photos or amusing content related to art/fashion.

Is Your Dog Really Talking To You?

Jen Huss loves her puppy Bodhi,
but does he understand
that when she tells him?

Several years ago my mom had a dog named Choosy. Our sweet family pet earned her name as a puppy, when she demonstrated keen selectivity in deciding which carpeted areas of our house deserved to be peed on.

According to my mom, in addition to Choosy's habit of being highly judicious in determining where to urinate, the dog had another interesting talent - she understood human language.

Well, not all human language. In truth, I only recall my mom claiming that Choosy understood a single interrogatory phrase, but I was doubtful about even that possibility.

From pretty much any room in the house, my mom would bend down, make eye contact with Choosy, and ask - "do you want a cookie?" The dog would then bolt to the door of the pantry in our kitchen where we stored her special treats, and she'd wait there for my mother to come and reward her. 

A skeptic by nature, I didn't believe the dog understood the meaning of the specific question she was being asked, or for that matter, the significance of any human words. I argued that the dog wasn't interpreting language, but was instead responding to my mother's high-pitched puppy-frenzy-inducing tone of voice. 

To prove my point, I decided one day to put Choosy to the test. Using the same posture and tone of voice as my mother, I asked the dog excitedly - "Are you a Nazi?" In reply, Choosy immediately broke into a run for the pantry, where she sat by the door and awaited her cookie reward. Ha! I knew it! The dog was a fraud, a faker, a charlatan in conspiracy with my mom.

Case closed? Not exactly. Turns out my experiment may not have been all that scientific. 

Today I read a fascinating article about a Border Collie who has developed a vocabulary of more than 1,000 words. The article includes links to various animal language studies, as well as video clips like this one, which even if it's not a Husky attempting to speak, is still pretty damn cute.