Are You Talkin’ To Me?

Piper helps dogs know when humans are talking to themselves instead of us.

Piper La Grange. “Humans often talk to themselves. It’s the only time they’re sure someone’s listening to them.” Photo by Catherine La Grange.

Welcome to the latest edition of Ask The Advice Terrier. I’m Piper La Grange. I’m a thirteen-year-old female Border Terrier. I’m here to help dogs understand their human’s weird behaviors. And if those can be changed by whapping the human’s nose with a rolled-up newspaper, or if it’s time to bring out the shock collar.

Today’s question comes from a dachshund who lives on my street. (It was in a pee-mail left on the snowbank at the end of my driveway.)

Dear Piper.

My mom occasionally talks when she’s doing stuff around the house. I can’t always tell if she’s talking to herself or me.

Just the other day Mom was in bed watching a steamy Lifetime movie on TV . I was snoozing on the floor. Suddenly I heard her say “You’re the only one who loves me without judging me.” I assumed she was speaking to me. But when I looked up, I realized Mom was talking to her vibrator.

Please help me, Piper. When I overhear my mom say something, how can I know if she’s talking to me or to herself?

Snarls Barkley

I get what you’re woofing, Snarls. I have the same problem with my mom. Yesterday I overheard her say “I can always count on you to reduce the friction in my life.” I figured she was speaking to me. Nope, Mom was talking to a tube of lube.

“I thought I was a gal’s best friend.” Image by Google Gemini. Prompt by Catherine La Grange.

Every dog experiences situations where they don’t know if their human is talking to them or themselves. Take my friend Anderson Pooper. “Dad and I were hanging out in the back yard last Summer,” said Anderson. “Suddenly dad says ‘It’s true what they say: you’re man’s best friend.’ I assumed he was speaking to me. Then I followed his gaze: dad was talking to the Husqvarna Automower® that was cutting the grass.”

Said Anderson, “Crimeny, Dad even plays fetch with the damned lawnmower.” Image by Google Gemini. Prompt by Catherine La Grange.

“The same thing happened when my mom and I were in our living room,” added Virginia Woof. “She said ‘I can’t imagine my life without you.’ She wasn’t referring to me. Mom was looking at the Roomba® robot vacuum cleaner.”

Said Mom, “If its wheels spin, it’s dreaming about chasing dust bunnies.” Image by Google Gemini. Prompt by Catherine La Grange.

This problem bedevils humans too, Snarls. They often overhear their spouse say things, and wonder if they should respond or if their honey is just talking to themselves. For example,

• A wife is in the kitchen replacing the broken garbage disposal she installed only a year ago. Her husband is sacked out on the living room sofa. He awakens to hear her say “I didn’t think you’d burn out so soon.” Is she talking to the inanimate object under the sink? Or to the inanimate object in the living room?
• A husband is in the family room surfing sports on Apple TV.™ His wife is pleating curtains in her sewing room. Out of the blue she hears him say “Thank goodness you’re here for me. I pray God that I never lose you.” Is he talking to her? Or is he talking to Siri?
• A wife is searching the fridge for ingredients to make the evening supper. Her husband is lounging in the living room BarcaLounger®, plowing through a plate of frickles while watching hockey on TV. Suddenly he butt-belches a super-saturated silent-but-deadly. Moments later his wife mutters “Holy crap, it smells like something crawled in there and died!” Is she talking to a lump of moldy cheese? Or to the lump who cut the cheese?

“It wasn’t me, Honey. Fifi made a fanny flutter.” Image by Google Gemini. Prompt by Catherine La Grange.

As a matter of fact, Snarls, there’s times when humans don’t know if we’re talking to them or ourselves.

• My friend Jabba the Mutt murmured something about the “tail of two cities.” His dad asked if Jabba was referring to the novel by Charles Dickens. “No,” Jabba replied. “I was just talking to myself about the slutty Shih Tzu down the street whose parents also have a condo in Key West.”
• Woofie Goldberg whimpered about “the big ten” while rolling on her back in the living room. Her mom asked if she was begging to watch a college football game on TV. “Naw,” said Woofie. “I was just noticing how big my boobies got after I birthed that last batch of puppies.”
• As I trotted into the house from my back yard, Mom heard me whining “shoo-be-doo-be-doo.” She said she liked hearing me scat-singing Frank Sinatra’s coda in Strangers In The Night. “I’m not singing,” I retorted. “I’m grumbling because I stepped in crap that a shoo-be-doo-be dumped on my lawn.”

As I said to the laughing Shoo-be-doo-be to the right, “May you be humped by a porcupine and give birth to a pincushion!” Image by Google Gemini. Prompt by Catherine La Grange.

(By the way, it should be obvious to humans when dogs are talking to themselves. We reverse-bark.)

If you wanna know whether your humans are talking to themselves or you, Snarls, use your canine common sense.

• Your mom’s working in the garden. You hear her say “kumquat.” Obviously she’s not talking to you. She’s calling her quat.
• Your dad’s in the kitchen. He says “Where’s my Peter Pan?” He can’t be asking you. You don’t know where he put the pan he uses to fry his Peter.
• You overhear your mom say “Rub-a-dub-dub” while she’s taking a bath in the tub. She shouldn’t be talking to you. Your mom can rub her own dub-dub.

“Just ’cause you rub my belly doesn't mean I gotta rub something of yours.” Image by Google Gemini. Prompt by Catherine La Grange.

If you’re still in doubt, Snarls, ask yourself this: who is your human most likely to be talking to?

Here’s a simple scenario. Your mom and dad are changing into their PJs before getting into bed. Your dad says “You two look bigger than you used to.” Who’s he talking to?

• If mom’s a young babe, he’s talking to her boobs.
• If dad’s an old fart, he’s talking to his moobs.

Let’s make that scenario more complicated. Your mom says “You’re such a cutie patootie!” Who’s she talking to?

• If mom’s a hottie, she’s talking to her patootie.
• If dad’s a stud, she’s talking to his patootie.
• If mom and dad are saggy-assed geezers, she’s talking to your patootie.

Why not? I’ve got a bodacious badonkadonk. Image by Google Gemini. Prompt by Catherine La Grange.

I know this sounds difficult, Snarls. But if you put a situation in context, you’ll know if your mom is talking to herself or you. It works for me. And my mom’s a much bigger challenge than yours.

The reason has to do with the fact that Mom is a single blue-haired Presbyterian church lady. She’s seventy, but she’s still on active duty. “Where there’s lube, there’s a way,” says Mom. Consequently, she gets into situations where it’s hard to know who she’s talking to. But I can usually tell by considering the context.

• Last week Mom said “I’ll let you off the leash if you promise to not run away.” She’d have been speaking to me if we were out for a walk. But we were in the living room. So I knew Mom was talking to the geezer she was leading into her bedroom.
• A few days ago Mom said “Get ready for your morning back-scratch.” She would have been speaking to me if we were on the living room love seat. But she was in the bedroom. So obviously Mom was talking to the old coot who was parallel parked on her pelvis.
• Last Sunday morning Mom said “Just ’cause I let you sleep here last night doesn’t make this your forever home.” She says that to me every time I jump in bed with her during a thunderstorm. But I was in my dog bed on the floor. Therefore, Mom was talking to the mangy stray she brought home from the bar on Saturday night.

It can be confusing when I’m not the only one who’s wearing a collar. Image by Google Gemini. Prompt by Catherine La Grange.

Granted, context doesn’t always help me know who Mom’s talking to.

• As I entered the house one day through the pet flap in the door, Mom grumbled “Damn, you shouldn’t have rolled in that!” She might have been talking to me, since I’d just rolled over a stinky carp beside the creek. Or she might have been talking to herself, ’cause she’d just rolled over a stinky old fart in her bed.
• Mom was on the love seat and I was goofing around on the floor. Suddenly Mom yipped “That’s not a chew toy!” She might have been telling me to stop gnawing her new pair of Nikes. Or she might have been telling the gaffer kneeling in front of her to loosen his lip-lock on her gadget.
• As I fixin’ to jump up onto Mom’s bed she said “You’re not allowed on my clean sheets until you butt-scoot the crusties off your caboose.” She might have been speaking to me because there were dingleberries in my fanny fur. Or she might have said that to the codger who had ’em on his hairy heinie.

I didn’t know who Mom was talking to. That wet spot might have been made by me. Or it might have made by ol’ Quick-Draw McGraw. Image by Google Gemini. Prompt by Catherine La Grange.

At least there’s one situation where I’m absolutely sure that Mom is talking to herself. It’s when she tells me to sit, stay, come, heel, fetch, drop it, or leave it. I’m a Border Terrier. That’s the most stubborn dog breed in the world. So when Mom tells me to do something, she may as well be talking to herself.

Mom and I would get along better if she’d accept that anything she tells me to do is just a suggestion. “Stubborn Border Terrier Tricks T-Shirt”, TeeNavi, screenshot by Catherine La Grange.