Animal language (London)

On my morning school runs escorting two children to school, we walk through the grounds of Ally Pally (Alexander Palace) in north London.

Lots of people walk their dogs there.

On the way, I often come across earthworms that have found their way onto the tarmac paths, so I pick them up with sticks and throw them back onto the grassy area, so that they won’t get squashed underfoot.

One morning last week, a small dog suddenly stopped by me, and started to do a growly bark.  I wasn’t quite sure why it should be growling at me — surely it didn’t feel threatened by me?  

I asked, “What??  Why are you barking at me??”

The little dog growled again, and lowered the front half of its body, as if it was ready to bounce up and run off.

This was repeated a number of times.

Ah, Eureka!!  It wanted me to throw the sticks in my hands for it to go and fetch.

The only thing is: the sticks were the size of a toothpick for one of them and a chopstick for the other.  How the little dog could’ve thought they’d be candidates for Fetch is beyond me.

What I have learned from this episode , though, is:  after the event, it occurred to me that the dog’s growl on this occasion was from the back of the throat, not the usual frontal loud bark.  So, that growl was a request or invitation, “Come on, throw them, throw them, I want to go fetch!!”

(London, 2022)