I am Fluent in the Language of Dog

Every communication is actually two simultaneous conversations: the verbal and the nonverbal. In terms of emotional impact and believability, the nonverbal conversation is far more important to us then the verbal one. Which is good news for my dog. She whines when she wants to go out, barks when the doorbell rings, and growls when she plays tug of war, but she doesn't have the gift of gab like her owner. But what she lacks in the verbal department, she more than makes up for with her nonverbal capabilities. I dabble in French, I can read a few words of Spanish, but thanks to my Lab, Georgia, I am fluent in the language of dog.

Georgia and I share conversation - me in English, her in Dog - and never have a problem understanding one another. In fact, I am able to translate what Georgia says to my monolingual family and friends. We don't always agree on the subject matter - Georgia likes to wax poetic about squirrels, sticks and tennis balls, while I prefer discussing books, recipes and my plans for the day - but we are never at a loss for words.

The other day, Georgia was banished from the backyard because she caught a chipmunk and was using it as her plaything. Much to her dismay, she was relegated to the screened porch so she could be one with nature without causing bodily harm to innocent creatures. After about an hour, I glanced outside and she "told" me that she was having a blast. How did she tell me? She was doing her happy dance, her ears were sticking up, her tail was wagging and her eyes were fixated on a squirrel. But as soon as I opened the door, she was telling a different story.

She immediately crouched down, her belly about an inch off of the ground. Her ears were pulled back and her eyes darted back and forth completely and purposefully avoiding me. Which, translated into English sounds like this, "Holy mother of pearl, what are you doing here? Please, go back inside. Please. I beg of you...you do not want to see what I have done."

I replied to Georgia, in English, in my angry voice, "Georgia, what did you do?"

She was terrified. She began to swallow hard while backing up, trying to wedge herself under a table. Translation: "I don't know what came over me. What in the Sam Hill was I thinking? I feel awful. You are going to be so disappointed - which kills me - you know how I hate to disappoint you! But you've got to believe me, it wasn't all my fault, that dang squirrel was egging me on."

At this point in our conversation, she was completely turned away from me, but she heard and understood every word that I said, "Georgia...what...did...you...do?" As I asked the question I was frantically looking around the porch for the scene of the crime. And then, I spotted it. "Oh, for the love of Pete, Georgia, you ate an entire basket!"

The gig was up and so she slowly, but surely began easing her way out of the hiding spot, crawling towards me. When she got close enough, she dropped her head as if to say, "I knew it was a basket, but it looked so much like a bunch of twigs, and you know how I love to chew on sticks. I know, I should have known better, I do know better, but that dang squirrel was mocking me because he had the run of the yard and I was cooped up on the porch. I had to show him who was top dog, so I ate it and I am so sorry." (Yes, she really said all of that.)

"Georgia," I said, "We have talked about your chewing issues many times, when will you learn?" which caused her to slump down even further. I didn't say another word. I didn't have to - she knew I was mad, I knew she was sorry. But I sat there for awhile watching the top of her head until finally, she lifted it and looked at me. I couldn't resist her huge, brown sorrowful eyes and so I placed my hand on the top of her head. And that's all it took. That's all she needed. I didn't say anything, but here's what she "heard"..."Ok, George, I forgive you. Yes, you are still my friend. Maybe not my best friend right now, but my friend nonetheless." And as soon as I stroked her back, she knew we'd moved on.

Body language speaks volumes; understanding the body language of others and being aware of your own nonverbal cues can make you a better communicator. The words you choose are a critical part of your message, but studies have shown that body language plays a determinative role in how your message is received. Perhaps we should all bark less and wag more.

At Ty Boyd Executive Communications & Coaching we help our clients "read" bodies because facial expression, body language and eye contact go a long way in getting your point across.


Laurie Reid manages the written word at Ty Boyd Executive Communications & Coaching. After 3 years of her kids begging for a dog, she caved. She was envisioning a small dog that didn't shed and didn't necessarily like people. She wound up with a yellow lab; a dog known for its excessive shedding and love of people. Georgia loves everybody and everybody loves Georgia (except for the squirrels and the chipmunks).