09/18/2026
A Partnership Based on Trust
How is it possible that the “being” or soul that knows me best is a canine? How is it possible that we communicate effectively all day long without the use of a shared language? I speak human English. My beautiful dog, Meadow, speaks fluent canine.
I have seen advertisements for push buttons and soundboards. One can teach their dog to paw at words like “outside,” “eat,” “play,” etc. It sounds like a useless waste to me. Now, please forgive me if you love these things or have had a different experience than I have.
I just don’t think my Meadow needs to be drilled on words. We do just fine without a soundboard or talking buttons. Meadow and I flow through endless “conversations” all day. The thing is that when learning any new language, one must fully immerse themselves in it to become fluent. In order to speak fluent “Meadowneese,” or the language of Meadow, I had to be immersed in her world. I had to be with her as much as I could. She had the same challenges that I faced. The day I brought her home at twelve weeks, she immediately went into study mode. She was a much quicker scholar than I.
She learned my tone, facial expressions, body language, and some words from listening. She quickly knew the names of everyone in the household.
Meadow was and is this sentient being that I want to be with as much as possible. If I just say “dog” or “animal,” it’s easy for my reader to dismiss the sentiment here. Now, bear with me if you think I’m just anthropomorphizing my dog. I’m truly not. I’m saying how incredible the canine mind is, specifically in regard to communication with a species besides their own.
Science proves that dogs are very emotionally attached to humans. Science proves they love us. They did MRIs showing the above to be true. I can link the articles. Let’s get back on track, though.
Meadow quickly learned me. A head on my knee, running away to solitude when I had harsh words on the phone with someone. She doesn’t like to see me angry or stern. She has never been mistreated, nor would I ever yell at her. She just is naturally a tad anxious. Blame it on genetics: Australian Shepherd, Border Collie, Australian Cattle Dog. She’s a genius. A quirky genius!
Any loud noises, stern or harsh language will have her seeking solitude. Because of this, I learned to be mindful of her presence and tone everything down. I started this as soon as I saw her reaction as a puppy. One inevitable part of life is family tension and arguments. With two daughters in their teen years, I sadly have to admit yelling happened. What evolved, though, was clear communication with Meadow. I was quick to say, “Meadow, it’s okay. Do you want to go outside?”
So, over the years, when tensions rose, kids were fighting, or I yelled at my husband, all of us were aware of Meadow and the other two dogs. We calmly said, “Meadow, it’s okay. Let’s go outside.” Soon, she would just go to another room and find solitude or go out. She learned that she was always safe.
I still warn her if I’m getting into a tense conversation on the phone. “Meadow, it’s okay,” I say with a smile.
Somewhere along the road, she once made a low growl at me when I was rubbing her back. She loves a good massage. This time, I removed my hands and looked at her.
“I’m sorry.”
I then tentatively reached for her head. She was calm and softly closed her eyes as I scratched behind her ears.
I gently went down her body until—
“Grrrr.”
She stood up and walked away from me. I knew she was in pain in a particular spot.
The next time I went to pet her, I gently started with her favorite ear scratch and then the belly rub. I started to move my hand like I might touch her back. She looked right at me with this look of stern will. I then scratched her ears. Her face relaxed, and she rolled to one side.
To this day, I ask permission to touch her back and legs. So far, she’s always been up for behind-the-ear scratches and belly rubs. I will say “back” and gently reach. Often, she allows it. Other times, I hear the low little growl. I move away.
She is heard. Her opinion matters.
She has agency to decline or receive touch. I can monitor her arthritis based on our communications. I tell her physical therapist about it.
Meadow has ice packs, brushes, and a heating pad. I will bring them over to her and toward her back. She lets me know which is okay. The little low growl is a definitive “No!”
I love her growl. It makes me sad how so many people will say to ignore the growls, punish a growl, or say something stupid like, “The dog runs the show.”
The dog is intelligent and knows what she likes and doesn’t. Why would I punish her for a growl? If you touch me when I’m in pain, I might just yell or push you away. How can we expect less from our dogs?
This communication is so valuable. That little “grrrr” growl is much different from her very angry growl she reserves for strangers coming to the door.
At night, she goes to bed with my husband in the bedroom. The other dogs will follow me until I’m in bed. Prior to bed, all the dogs get a biscuit. I can open the cupboards and rattle food packages, and Meadow won’t leave the bedroom. She has learned that I will always bring her one. She has no need to run out and follow me like the other dogs do. My other two are just Velcro dogs.
I open the box, get the treats, and walk into the back room. Upon entering, I see Meadow with a tiny drop of drool preparing to become one long strand. She has been waiting in anticipation for her biscuit. I love that she knows she doesn’t have to get out of bed and fly out to the kitchen.
She trusts me to bring hers.
Meadow trusts me….
What an honor.
That’s our language. Trust.
I trust her as well. We walk out to the car together for our outings. I know she will stay with me if my hands are full and her leash is dragging. I know she would never run off in the woods off leash. I know she has no prey drive for little animals. Bunnies, guinea pigs—they are safe around her.
I learned this information through long and slow walks. What was she interested in? Where did she try to go?
I could keep writing, and I want to. I have to wrap this up. I hope you see that it’s just time and love. The more time you spend with your dog or dogs, the more you know about them. Slow walks, observations, exploring new places. That’s the secret. Also, respecting the dog’s boundaries and being kind.
Today, Meadow was refusing her walks. I really need her to walk to keep her joints from getting stiff. I got to thinking she has had enough neighborhood walks. She wasn’t in the mood to stroll around our home.
I went over and picked up my purse and keys. Before I said another word, she was flying over and allowing me to put her leash on. She wanted to go visit a park.
I tell her we are going for a car ride with the keys. A neighborhood walk is by invitation. I open the front door and wait on the porch. The funny thing is that several times I have stepped back into the entryway, and she is on the couch closing her eyes.
That is a definitive….
“No!”
With food, she has made her choices very clear. She used to whine at night, and I thought she was sick. I couldn’t figure it out. Then I started offering her different things. She chooses the same food for every meal. The whining is gone, and I suspect a sensitive stomach.
I tried to incorporate so many healthy foods into her bowl. She wants nothing to do with it. Many will scoff, but this is about her will. She wants her kibble. No gas, belching, or whining. This works for her, and so she wins.
The other two dogs will enjoy a variety of fresh foods. Meadow will still have certain bits here and there, but I truly believe she knows her body. It’s not an addiction to the taste of kibble, not when you keep in mind that the stomach issues and nighttime pacing resolved.
Some of us humans thrive as vegans, others on a paleo plan. Dogs are individuals too. The food battles among canine enthusiasts drive me mad. Food is personal, and it shouldn’t be a weapon used to create division between dog lovers. Do what’s best for that special pup in front of you. They will tell you if you allow them.
I let food cause me so much anxiety. Holistic vets, supplements…. Then, a bag of food from the store.
Peace for my dog and me.
She will occasionally choose goat’s milk or cottage cheese. She’s always good with a fresh bite of lean chicken. I can’t fathom not feeling well, perhaps plagued with indigestion, and someone keeps trying to make me eat food that flares it up. I would rather eat my “safe” foods too.
Meadow is my doggy of discipline and routine. She loves a schedule and knowing what to expect. She will only do certain walking routes. I follow her.
There are so many lovely paths in our town. She can’t be bothered.
The senior housing complex with its safe little dogs—this housing community only allows dogs under 30 pounds. Meadow has always enjoyed small dogs. She loves to visit there and sniff everything. She likes a park nearby and the school. Everywhere else is unpredictable, and one can see her tense if a walk that way is suggested.
Her walks are her walks.
She has shown me what she enjoys. She leads, and I follow.
Meadow loves to visit schools and walk around the perimeters. Children are just lovely to her. We can do that a few times a week. She delights in people admiring her and petting her. It’s other dogs that bring a mixed bag of feelings. She will gladly stick to her little terriers, Shih Tzus, and poodles.
Oh, how she plays like a puppy again when a little dog comes around and has a playful disposition. A little Frenchie, perhaps, or the old Border Terrier….
She has her type.
She and I, we just get each other.
Sure, I could teach her to paw “outside” or “play.”
That seems trivial and almost demeaning.
“Outside.”
She seeks me out if I’m late for her walk. She wakes me with a gentle little growl, with her muzzle right by my ear, if she needs to potty.
We talk….
When I’m sick, she never requests that walk. She stays right by me on the bed. My husband or daughter will often offer a walk, and she will go. The thing is that she hasn’t made the request of me. She knows how I look, feel, and smell when sick.
If we’re very ill and my dog kept using the word board to demand “play” or “walk,” and I said, “Not today,” or took the board away, our communication would be broken. Miscommunication is the number one cause of relationship problems. This is no different with our beloved companions.
Authentic communication is the basis for knowing your dog on a deep and emotional level. It’s achieved one day at a time through….
Can you guess?
SLOW.
Slow walks.
Slow Sunday afternoons in the garden, where you both look to one another as the crows are going off about this or that. They are noisy today.
A nap in the middle of the day, and you can’t help but laugh because your dog is lying on their back, head on a pillow, with feet twitching away. Maybe a bunny chase in a dream.
A winter’s morning so cold the dog is glued to you, and you just sip your coffee or tea and take in the warmth and weight. Thankful for an animal who loves you so much.
Slow and gentle teaching.
“Meadow, that is yucky.”
My water-loving girl looks to me before jumping into a puddle, brook, or river. If I say “yucky,” she knows she can’t go in. I had to teach her this due to algae and chemicals in street puddles.
As a young pup, I couldn’t bear to pull her or correct her enthusiasm for the water. I simply had to pick her up to prevent pulling and turn away from the water while saying, “Meadow, that’s yucky!” A word often used by the toddlers I teach.
I then sat with her, gently loving on her, and gave her a treat. We walked on. After a few times, I could say “yucky,” and she would pass it.
Obviously, we must keep our dogs safe. We tell the young child, “We mustn’t ever walk in the street.” If we saw our baby walking into traffic, we would take swift action. The point is that we try to teach the child before an incident happens. We use safety measures to prevent this from happening. Most of us never want to yell at a child who is in the road.
How cruel to yell at the dog in the trash. Our natural scavengers are fulfilling an innate desire. So, we secure the trash. We keep it away from the dog, and most importantly, we provide an alternative, such as a treat search in the yard. We play Nosework games.
The child who would like to investigate the road is taken to the playground. The child watches the big buses and blue trucks from the safety of the parent’s arms. If the child saw the bus and started walking that way, it would be abusive to hit and say, “Leave it!”
Why do this to the dog?
The dog is so wise.
A gentle redirection to something else is a powerful tool. I hate to see dogs being trained with these harsh words. Harsh methods, tools, and words are for the impatient. They haven’t learned to relish the bond that comes from genuine communication and, most importantly, respect for another living creature.
Two souls living on the same planet, different species, but with the ability to cohabitate, trust, love, communicate….
What is more powerful than that?
My Meadow is turning nine years old this week. Things are changing for her. I see the earlier bedtime, the more frequent naps….
I look at her and say, “Me too!”
At almost 44, I’m not the spry young woman I once was. I thank God for the gift of my dog and the ability to understand her. The nine years with her have been the happiest years of my life.
Mistakes were made, my own voice not listened to, a bad decision…. Regrets are bound to hit us. But the dog is fast to forgive. It’s never too late to start over and seek the joy that comes from learning to live a slow and peaceful life with your dogs.
I hope you and yours will let past mistakes flow away. At the time, we worked with what we knew. Putting my puppy in agility—we had good intentions.
I know my reader had good intentions. Those who love their dogs are the only ones who will be reading this. So, let go of the past. Work on communicating through slow observations and activities. Let some of the stress in your life go.
Make that time to just be.
Just be with your dogs. From there, language just happens.
I have written more words than planned. I must be ready should a freckled beauty want her walk this September morning.
Be well.
