Nick and I are looking after a friend’s dog. His name is
Zepplin. He’s pretty cool. He’s lazy and noisy, so naturally we’re getting on
swimmingly.
I realised that having Zepplin around constantly is an ideal
testing ground for future pet ownership. Can we possibly have a dog long-term? Could
a dog reasonably expect to live with us? Do dogs get our jokes? Do we click?
Getting a dog is a lot like dating. You can get one based on
looks alone, but what really matters is compatibility. You don’t want to wind
up in a loveless pet marriage with someone you took home just because they have
big brown eyes. You need a puppy soul mate.
Since Zepplin seems pretty content here with us and we think
he’s a bit of alright, over the last few weeks I’ve enlisted his help in a
series of high-tech personality trait and demographic profiling tests based on
my market research studies at uni. This has primarily involved singing to him. None
of your fancy Myers-Briggs shit. He’s been very obliging, and while initially
confused, I’m pretty sure he’s cottoned on to what I’m doing. He certainly
seems attentive when I make him sit still and ask him questions while I pretend
I have treats in my hands.
Please note: in no way am I suggesting that Zepplin’s
preferences and attitudes are in any way reflective of all dogs, nor am I claiming
that Zepplin is representative of his entire species. He is representative of dogs
who are available to me right now. And he’s nicer than the dog next door.
Racism
The first thing we needed to sort out was whether Zepplin
had any unsavoury takes on fellow human and/or canine kind. Originally this
involved me speaking to him in different accents, but this was problematic for
several reasons.
1. My impression of my grandmother starts off promising but
always winds up Russian.
2. So does my Indian accent.
3. I tried telling him a series of Latvian anti-jokes, but
he either didn’t get them or is totally disaffected and thinks laughing is
uncool.
Ultimately, all I could determine was that he really likes
Irish people. This was further highlighted by his rapt attention when I played
him a YouTube clip of Dylan Moran. He watched the whole first half of the 3:45 video before sniffing my knee and walking away, which is a significant
improvement on his reaction when I attempted to show him a clip from the 1986 ‘My Little Pony’ movie. I suppose it’s also possible he doesn’t like animated
movies.
Anyway, I concluded the reason I was lacking in definitive
results was that I’d been conducting this aspect of the study entirely in
English. It was unfair and ethnocentric of me to assume that English is Zepplin’s
first language, and so I decided to try things on his level.
I got on to this super-awesome website I ACTUALLY had to use
at uni that lists the words for animal noises in selected different languages,
WITH AUDIO. It’s pretty great.
I played Zepplin all the ‘dog’ noises it had to offer, while
I stared intently at him to take note of his responses and Nick stared intently
at me to work out what the fuck I was doing. My findings are as follows:
- Japanese: he stared at me.
- Korean: he rolled onto his side. Looked at me balefully.
- Spanish: sat right up and gave me accusing glare.
- French: blinked.
- English: took a deep breath I assume was a sigh.
- Syrian: I played three times in a row because it seemed to
be putting him to sleep, but then Nick fed him a piece of steak and ruined it.
- He is completely indifferent to Taiwanese and Arabic dogs.
Given my improved success rate with his reactions, I played
him a few different cat noises to see which cats interested him most in terms
of chasing capability. There is a black cat down the road he really likes and a
ginger one next door he is wary of, so I think he judges cats based on
individual merit. Which is nice.
He was actually indifferent to all cat noises EXCEPT
Taiwanese and Arabic. He runs around the house looking for phantom Taiwanese
cats, and Arabic cats make him chew his own leg for a bit.
Basque pigs make him wander around looking for whatever the
hell that noise is. He likes Arabic roosters.
Side note: the Arabic donkey noise sounds like someone about
to say ‘Oh no you didn’t.’
Conclusion: Happily, Zepplin does not appear to have any
xenophobic qualities. He is also very patient.
Religion
I asked Zepplin what he thought of secular humanism. I was
holding my hands out and wiggling my fingers to combat the aforementioned
attention span. He sniffed both of my hands, stared at me, and then walked
away.
Given his interest in only my two hands and what they had to
offer (nothing), I assume that Zepplin is given to binary thinking, leading me
to believe that he is preoccupied with the dichotomy of good and evil. When coupled
with his disapproval of my lack of reward or sacrificial offering, it can be determined
that Zepplin does subscribe to a religion of some sort. But he’s not all
in-your-face about it, so that’s okay.
As to which religion, I’m not entirely sure. As mentioned,
he’s reluctant to discuss it, so I can only guess based on his everyday
behaviour. Certainly nothing that places restrictions on what he can and can’t
eat; I saw him eat a bug only a few hours ago. He also really hates strangers
coming to the house, so that rules out anything with pamphlets and
door-knocking.
I can at least presume that he isn’t homophobic. Anyone who
spends that much time and attention on his own genitals can’t possibly have a
problem with what anyone else does with theirs.
Conclusion: Zepplin is a non-fundamentalist follower of an
undetermined religion with liberal leanings.
Sport
He doesn’t know the snow dance and shows no eagerness to learn.
Conclusion: Well, neither do I.
Social Media
Zepplin is a Facebook slut. Or he would be if he had Facebook.
For dogs, trees are kind of a smell-based news feed, and when on his daily walk
Zepplin has to stop at EVERY TREE. EVERY SINGLE ONE. Sometimes more than once,
in case he missed something. He needs to pee on absolutely everything, and that
includes grass, plants, the pavement, and posts. He will occasionally lift his
leg in the guise of peeing, and not actually do anything. I think this is the
dog equivalent of ‘liking’ something.
Conclusion: Facebook addict.
Music
I thought it was important to work out whether we had
similar taste, or at least tastes that overlapped, so we didn’t argue about
what we played when people came over. He doesn’t seem to mind me playing Triple
J, and likes live sets because it feels like he’s THERE, ya know?
- The Spice Girls’ ‘2 Become 1’ scares the crap out of him. He
backs away barking frantically. He likes it even less if you sing it to him as
an a cappella duet.
- He does like being sung Burt Bacharach. He will lick your
hands delightedly and sit down watching you in thrilled enjoyment. I’m not
actually exaggerating.
- Playing him Tegan and Sara’s ‘Closer’ while singing and
dancing makes him really happy and he joins in. Sadly, it over-excites him and
he needs a nap soon after.
- If you sing him Martin Solveig’s ‘We Came To Smash’ he gets
so excited he hits his head on the coffee table and knocks over water bottles
with his mad tail-wagging. Nick then tells you to stop breaking things and you
stop singing to him because he wouldn’t admit he did it.
- He is as sick of that Flux Pavilion/Childish Gambino song as
I am.
- He seems to really like Sigur Rós, but I’m not sure if that’s
just because he thinks there are singing kitties hiding somewhere.
Conclusion: Zepplin and I have pretty similar taste. I’m
sure he’ll come around to 90s girl-pop once I make him watch ‘Spice World’.
Vices
I wanted to gauge whether he was a wine or a smokes kind of
guy. Obviously I didn’t actually GIVE him either of them, because a) it would
constitute animal cruelty and I’m pretty sure it’s illegal, and b) it would be
a criminal (HA) waste. As discussed above, Zepplin eats bugs and has a less-than-sophisticated
palate.
I held out a bottle of wine and a packet of cigarettes and
asked him which he would take with him to a desert island. He stared at the
bottle, sniffed the pack, and then wandered away. This was a pretty clear
answer.
You know that thing where you wet your finger and run around
the rim of a wine glass? He DOES NOT like that.
Conclusion: Teetotaller. But he doesn’t mind that we’re not.
This is as far as I got before I decided that if we got a
dog like Zepplin, I’d be pretty damn happy. He’s a cool, tolerant, slightly
ungainly guy. If he could drive, he’d probably have a really sensible car, but
he’d be a MACHINE on the dance floor. Bonus: he loves naps.
