C’mon, you know what I want…
A dog can’t think that much about what he’s doing, he just does what feels right.
-Barbara Kingslover
It’s not at all unusual, while I’m out walking with Waldo, that passersby will say to me, “I love your dog! He’s so cute!”
It’s happened so often, I have a canned response: “He’s a sweetheart too! He’s got a really good heart, but his brain is a bit bent…”
Sure, I’m trying to be clever and cute, but there’s a great deal of truth in it too.
Border collies are renowned to be one of the most intelligent breeds of dogs. I suppose most people mean by this that they are easily trained. And, compared to some other breeds, they are. When they want to be. But dog training means getting a dog to do the human thing you want him to do. You don’t have to train a dog to do a dog thing, they already know how to do that. In my experience, border collies are also one of the most independent of breeds. Some dogs seem to go out of their way, obsequiously, to do what you want them to do. Border collies… Not so much.
During the Revolutionary War, Baron von Steuben was tasked by George Washington to train the Continental Army. Von Steuben was somewhat frustrated by the troops, complaining that when he gave an order, it wasn’t simply obeyed. To get cooperation, he had to explain why the troops should do it the way he wanted them to. Training Waldo is something like that.
I decided that it would be fun to get Waldo to learn to push buttons that tell me what he wants. There are cheap sturdy plastic buttons that you can buy that have prerecorded audio messages on them (you can also get buttons that allow you to record your own messages). They include things like “Outside!” and “Water!” I bought some buttons and started training with the “Outside!” button, since that is the one we would most often use.
Waldo learned very quickly what to do. I would say, “Want to go outside?” and he would push the button. When he pushed the button on his own, I would immediately take him out. So far, so good.
I know for a fact that he also knows the word “water.” When we ‘re out walking and he’s thirsty, if anyone mentions the word “water,” he immediately goes up to the person who said it and looks for a container of water. I’ve seen him do this on many occasions. So I added the “Water!” button. At first, he was cooperative and did what was expected, but soon, he tired of the game and refused to hit any button. He would give me a look that seemed to say, “This game is stupid, you know damn good and well what the hell I want, so get on with it!” After many months, he has now gotten to the point where, when I ask him if he wants to go outside, he just vigorously slaps both buttons. I really believe he’s not confused, but just frustrated, as if saying, “Come on! Come on! Get on with it! The hell with your stupid game. I don’t wanna play this way! I wanna go outside!”
And, of course, he is right. I do know what he wants. We spend so much time together, we can read a great deal about each other. Nothing needs to be said, no buttons need to be pushed. I know when he wants to go outside and when he needs water. I just know. Waldo, too, knows what I want him to do without my giving him any commands. That doesn’t mean he will necessarily do what I want him to do, but he knows what I want.
But when I say his brain is a bit bent, this is not the kind of thing I’m referring to. Waldo instinctively reacts in a doggy manner to stuff that is totally foreign to what I would do. Damn, what I’ve seen him put in his mouth that I wouldn’t touch with my hand in a glove! He’ll refuse to drink water out of a bottle I have laboriously brought for him to drink from, then lap up stagnant, muddy water from a slimy puddle next to the trail. Okay, science may be able to give an explanation for why dogs eat excrement, but, even so, I still feel it requires a very bent brain to actually do it.
I really like Waldo’s independent intelligence, as much as I struggle to get him to play according to my rules. I don’t so much insist on that as negotiate, in a von Stueben kind of way. Except in circumstances that involve our safety. In those cases, my wants trump his and he knows it. Usually, though, his reluctance to cooperate is a means by which his intelligence is communicating with mine. And I really like that.
Above all, he is my friend.
…It’s not rocket science, you know.