You’ve seen the movie…. now attend the course. The Doolittles are here with a vengeance. In the last 2 weeks I’ve been hounded with emails inviting me to attend five different work shops by five different ‘Animal Communicators’ who claim to talk to animals.  

Now, please don’t get confused between Animal Communicators and Fortune Tellers. Or Snake Wranglers, Horse Whisperers or Dog Listeners, because these guys are in a class all of their own.  And what is more, I am assured, just because I am living in the bark ages doesn’t mean they haven’t been around for donkey’s years. And to think, only 15 days ago, I’d never dreamt, in my wildest dreams, such things might be possible. To tell the truth I haven’t yet figured out how the telephone works, let alone a mobile phone…. and now this phenomenon.

They really do talk to animals

Anyhow, like it or not, it is true.  There are these gifted folks out there who really do talk to the animals, and yes, the animals really do talk back. The mind boggles. This  means you can now have a two way conversation with dear old Alto across the Rainbow Bridge and find out how things are going with him and the rest of the gang over  there -

“Hey, Alto … it’s Mom, it’s Mom, Darling, are you there … pick up, pick up  please.”
Crackle, crackle, crackle…
“Oh, hi Mom, I was wondering when you’d call - what’s taken you so long?
“Oh, my Darling Boy, is it really, really you?!
“Of course it’s me, don’t you recognise my squeaky voice?
“It is you Baby Boy!  Oh my God, it is really you!!”
“Hey Ma, there’s something I’ve always wanted to ask you …..”
“Anything my Angel, anything, all you’ve got to do is ask and Mom will tell you… you know how much I love you!”
“Then tell me, why the hell you took me to the vet when I was a puppy and ruined my future?!”

Is communicating with your pets necessarily a good thing?

Now it seems this 2-way communicating talking to animals thing can open up a whole new ball game, especially in getting to know your pets’ intimate thoughts and they yours.  But I worry that we may be opening a can of worms?  Oh heck, I nearly forgot worms talk too:   “I really don’t know why we are so down trodden and abused? Digging us up, sticking hooks through us and then cramming us into cans with hundreds of others! It’s just so not cricket ….” ooops, there we go again.

Anyhow, as you can see this communication development between the species could open up a whole new world of opportunities. But on the other paw, it may just put me out of business .Picture the scene - 3am.
“Ma, wake up, wake up it’s me Woofy and I’m hungry and if you don’t feed me now I’m gonna keep you awake and then as an encore I’m gonna chew the leg off your best antique chair - you know the very valuable  one Great  Granny gave you, and then  …..”
Well, that would put me out of business for sure.  No more need for a shrink to get into his head and figure out whats pushing his buttons.

What about vets?

And I wonder how the vets are going to feel about this matter? As things were in the good old days:
“Come, play Buster - come now, out your basket and we’ll play your favourite game,     Hunt the Post Man’
Without lifting his head, Buster opens one red eye and squints from beneath a heavy lid.
“Oh dear, you don’t look well, you poor thing.  Here, perhaps a piece of steak will cheer you up?”
Buster grimaces & painfully turns his head away, clearly indicating he is most unwell.
“Oh my God, get the car keys quick, Buster must be dreadfully ill if he can’t stand up or even take a mouthful of steak!”
At the vets surgery Buster just lies there in a heap too sick to even lunge at the Enemy in the White Coat.  Ag shame, poor old pooch can barely lift his lip to snarl.
“Mmmm this is very serious. There’s a killer virus going round at the moment so we’ll need to deal with this in two phases.  First we’ll wack it with an excellent new wonder drug on the market … a bit pricey but it will save his life, and then we’ll follow up with a few tests to ensure there is no permanent damage.”
“Snarl, growl, bling, bling, kichang, kitchang” Inspect, Inject and Collect….  big bucks. Blood tests, urine tests, saliva tests, sugar tests and poo tests  … much, much bigger bucks.

And now that we can tune in and hear what the boy’s saying:
“Come and play Buster - come on now, out your basket and we’ll play your favourite game, Hunt the Post Man”
Without lifting his head, Buster opens one red eye, squints from beneath a heavy lid and quietly moans,
“Please leave me alone and let me die! I’ve just eaten 1 kilo of garbage out the bin, Mrs Grimsly’s  pet rabbit, a slow gecko, something with legs from the manure pit … twice. A couple of rotten avos and the neighbour’s Sunday Roast.”
Clearly, species communication would not be a profitable for the veterinary fraternity either - may even put them clean out of business too.

Dog clubs and trainers

Come to think of it, if we could all talk to animals then even the dog clubs and certain dog trainers too could also lose their jobs.
Sheeba: “Well, I for one would rather go back to the SPCA than go back to that nasty dog club while Old-Sour-Puss takes the classes!  She pinches my ear and stands on my paw when you’re not looking Mah and if that ain’t bad enough, she calls you a “Stupid, fat-ass, twit” when you go to the loo”
Mom: “Oh, Really!”
Sheeba:”Yes, and during  the stays, you just want to hear what Chloé, Max and Nikita say about her stupid training … they think she’s the reason none of us retrieve or sit straight!”

Well, now the cat is out the bag …  did he say why he got in there in the first place? Only joking …  but it certainly does give new meaning to “a little bird told me”.  Makes you think really.

Anyhow, as for me, I’ll be going to the dogs, so here’s, ‘Listening to you Furkid.’