Somehow, because we have opposable thumbs and large brains, we homo sapiens believe we are the dominant species. In our egocentric folly, we exalt our status in the animal kingdom for our superior communication and language abilities. We think that since we can talk, we are special. Just us. The chosen species. I often wonder if our bravado is misplaced.
All of the animals of the world have unspoken systems of sophisticated, inter-species expression. These systems have served them for eons. Conversation among animals takes many forms: posturing, a glance, a swag of the tail, a prick of the ear, a yawn, a sniff, a bark, high pitched sounds, low ultrasonic vibrations, and scents. They employ energetic exchanges that telegraph their intentions and warnings clearly. Very clearly. There is no mistaking, at the watering hole, who is on the prowl for a meal and who is just thirsty. Instant, telepathic articulation to the entire community of animals is routine and elementary.
We are the ones who are retarded in our communication skills. The animals, who we consider a lower life form, know with certainty that their messages will be understood among their kingdom. They are clear, concise and blunt. No apologies. Their senses of vision and hearing are sharply developed and keen. And when one dog sniffs another dogs behind, it is a whole conversation. They can tell where the other has been, what has been eaten, who they have been around, and the state of their physical and emotional health. No lies. No subterfuge. No miscommunication.
They make our interchanges look clumsy, cumbersome and archaic. We pride ourselves on our vocabularies and verbal skills. But we muck up relationships and interactions daily. We tend to go through life talking over everyone else. Even in the pauses of our speaking, our internal chatter keeps us missing a large part of what the other person is saying. We spend so much time trying to explain ourselves that we miss much due to inattentive listening and observation. We are busy, busy, busy...jacking our jaw... farting our brain...congratulating ourselves, in the essence of our very being, on our self-important Big Brain Theory.
I have truly wished to know, for just five minutes, what it would be like to hear or smell like a dog. Oh, stop! I don't mean I want to be stinky. What I do mean is that I want to experience the sensory gluttony of the animal kingdom. I know this is weird but, I have spent a lot of time trying to imagine myself in my dog's body. I have attended a couple of animal communication workshops instructed by famed animal communicator, Amelia Kinkade. I have had some success with her intuitive techniques. But for me, this requires a lot of practice and I am not always compliant.
My quest? One moment, or even one second, of total immersion in a zoological auditory and olfactory experience. I want exclusive, backstage VIP access to the entire universe of expression to which we are not privy. We, the youngest species on planet Earth, have a lot to learn from our animal counterparts. They have been communing far longer than we have. Sometimes I think a good ol' sniff up the bum would do much to eradicate human calamity and error.