Baby Louie tucked in for a nap with her blankie.

The following is a guest post from my dogwise friend and colleague Amanda.

I live next door to a redneck. I don't use that term loosely—I am talking about a man who, when my roommates and I moved in next door, asked if he could rent our spacious back yard to store junk. Why? Because he had run out of room in his own yard. His cats roam freely and wreak havoc on neighborhood birds, and when one of them had kittens (she is now spayed, thanks to PETA), he lost track of the babies more frequently than other people lose pocket change. So I always get a good chuckle when his German shepherd, Hannah, gets the best of him.

Hannah loves her dad, and she loves to go for rides in the bed of his pick-up truck. If he is working in the yard and says "drive," "ride," "truck," or anything similar-sounding, Hannah jumps in the back of the truck. My neighbor will then roll his eyes, tell Hannah that "we are not going for a ride," and demand that she get out of the truck in his gruff way. She responds by lying down in the truck bed. Then, looking sheepish, my neighbor rolls his eyes and says to anyone who has witnessed the exchange, "Guess I gotta take her for a ride now"—and he does!

Dogs are experts in operant conditioning (something that we "superior" humans have to take classes and read books in order to figure out). They can't speak our language, so they have to come up with creative ways to show us what they want and reward us when we exhibit the desired behavior. One of my coworkers tells me that when her canine friend Keeley wants to go for a walk, he stares at her intently from about 5 feet away. When she notices him, he wags, prances around a bit, and grins at her, and—bingo—she gets the hint and takes him for the walk he was asking for. Another PETA office dog, Chloe, prefers butt scratches to head pats. Since most people she meets on the street are not mind readers, Chloe's guardian says that she shows them what she wants by backing up to them and wiggling her behind until they understand.

At my house, we all know that my Louie wants to be tucked in for a nap when she hops up on the couch and paws expectantly at her blankie. My little jumping bean, who can leap 4 feet high with ease, has even managed to convince a frequent guest of mine that the couch is just too high. Whenever he visits, she daintily puts her paws on his lap and gives him a pitiful look. He lifts her up to the couch and she curls up next to him, rewarding him with an adoring look that clearly says, "You are my hero." I am certain she laughs at him behind his back.

I was told once by one of my college professors that animals can't communicate because they have no language. I told him that was the stupidest thing I had ever heard anyone say. Canine communication may be different from ours, but it isn't any less valid. Pay attention to what your dog is trying to tell you and you just might become bilingual!