I Speak to My Dog in Another Language

I sometimes speak to my dog in German. I don’t know any German, but neither does he, so that’s OK; I get away with it. He believes what I tell him, even though he doesn’t understand me. We have a special relationship, I guess it’s based on trust.

It’s also because he sees me as the pack leader, a kind of alpha-dog. I’m flattered, by his unquestioning loyalty, even though it’s just down to the character of his breed. He’s not judging me critically, he’s doing it because of his ancestry (as we’re in the same family, could that be ‘incestry’?). There’s complicity between us; it makes me feel good that he’s loyal so, in return, I’m loyal to him.

Imagine if there was a world like that, where you trusted, say, experts. You wouldn’t understand them – experts usually have their own language – but you’d believe them, nevertheless, because they were experts.

Hmmm!