Chapter 9
As a result of all that has here been stated, the question may very naturally arise: are there any indications such as lead to suspect a change of character, or do any other practical results follow on these educational tests? Now, Lola is by nature lovable, lively, full of fun, and she has retained these traits to the present day. Her great excitability has diminished, it is true, but this is probably due to her having grown more staid with years. Yet a difference is also to be found where her character--her dog-soul--is in question: it may be noticed in the suspicious way in which she now regards people, as though she were "drawing comparisons" between them and herself. We have, in fact, fallen somewhat in her estimation. She "asks"--so to speak--as to where our vaunted superiority may lie, and would seem to compare her newly-acquired knowledge--together with the existence forced upon her--with the life that is ours. Since she has made these "educational advances" one can often see in her eyes something that amounts to an angry reproach--something like an impatient question, as to _why_ we have so much food and freedom as compared with what is meted out to her. She follows our thoughts to a great extent, and our abilities no longer seem to impress her, since--to her--it is only those which she herself has mastered that come under this heading at all, and here--a slight contempt for the "oppressor" is often discernable. There is also a greater show of independence and frequent contrariness, owing to her diminished respect for our "species," in short--it becomes more difficult to deal with the dog. The days of blind confidence are past--even though an innate sense of devotion to man remains, for what has just been said, seems always to occur more as the result of "moments of reflection." Indeed, this entire educational process would have little that is joyful about it, were it not for the feeling that the animal understands its friend, and is in a position to converse with us within certain limits, and this outweighs and compensates for all the rest!
As to the practical results--I can say little that is favourable. The dog's _thinking_ seems to be at variance with her acts: thought can therefore, have little influence upon a dog's behaviour, for--as has been the case with dogs of every kind, from time immemorial--its actions are due to the excitement of the outer senses, such as scent, taste, and hearing, and any emotions observable are but the direct and inward continuation of those external sensations, and, as such, last but for a given time. What we may term the "thought form" that is bound to any given _word_, representing objective thought in its simplest form, rotates within a very limited circle, and is powerless over the animal's feeling. For instance: Lola knows that she is forbidden to "hunt" i.e. to go after the game, etc., indeed she has shown in many of her replies that she is well aware of what "totgeschossen" ( = to be shot dead) means. And yet--once the scent is up, off she goes, and nothing will prevent her--for, she _must_ go!
This is a particularly strong characteristic which beating and being deprived of her food may sometimes _check_, but which her own powers of reflection do not cure: and it is the same thing with most of her faults. At times it will be unreasoning obstinacy, but even where she uses a certain amount of reflection, the _result_ is identical. It has been no better where--with the help of thought--we have endeavoured to bring about actual results. An animal can be got to understand and carry out certain injunctions, such as--"sit up and beg," "lift up your paw," "go to your bed," "go out of the door," and much more of the same description, while after instruction it will understand "behind the stove lies a biscuit," yet _action_ seldom results from such knowledge. The dog's eyes will brighten, and it is evident that it has perfectly well comprehended the meaning of the words, indeed--this much can be easily ascertained by questioning it--but the dog will seem incapable of translating what it has comprehended into action. At such times Lola will rush about, as if her limbs would not obey--as though the influence she could bring to bear on them was not sufficiently powerful--and the final result is excitement. Connexion with the motor-nerves does not come into being in response to the action of the cerebrum. As the result of repeated written and spoken orders it is possible (with a certain amount of additional aid) to set up this connexion from without, yet, even then, the actual effect is but moderately successful. On the other hand, action in the reverse way--from the nerves or senses to the brain--is easy where the dog is concerned. Lola can report about things she has done, such as--"saw deer," "drank milk," "went into wood," "was naughty," "ate some of the cow," for reflection gives more time to master the subject, and to notice what is past, and this will therefore show, that in the way of practical results, the best will be those obtained by asking a dog what he has seen, heard, or scented, etc. Indeed, it is along these lines that the police dogs have proved their worth and importance. Yet it is very necessary that one should make sure that one's dog is not a liar, but an animal capable of taking up its job in the right manner. With our present knowledge, however, we are unlikely to achieve very much, since we cannot say to a dog--"go here or there"--or--"take this letter to so and so."
Not but what dogs have--in exceptional cases and after training--learnt to carry out such instructions, but it has resulted _without their thought-activity having been developed_. They get familiar with a certain road, and--basket in mouth--they will proceed to the baker's but--independently of habit and external impression--by the mere appeal to the brain or by means of the most persuasive words, we can attain to nothing worth mentioning, nothing that could be of distinct value, where a dog is kept for use. The sense, the object, and the reason for this educational work must be sought on other grounds.
A VARIETY OF ANSWERS
It was some time after Lola had mastered the art of spelling before I was able to get her to make independent replies. The first of these was given on the 13 April, 1916, and from that time onward they became easier and more frequent: most of those I have set down date from that period. These answers were at once noted, according to their numerals, and when the sentence was complete it was transposed into letters of the alphabet. Whenever there were any spelling mistakes, the words were placed before her, and she was told to name each successive wrong letter in reading over her answer. As _I_ knew the equivalent letters, I was able to write them down at once, and if the reply was a short one and no paper at hand, I could memorize the letters, and enter them in a book as soon as the lesson was over--adding the questions to which such answers had been given as well as the dates. All other questions and answers, as well as particulars relating to new exercises were also set down here.
Here is an answer I received from her on the 13 April, 1916: Lola was staying with me at Hohenheim, where we had arrived on the previous day, and I proceeded to Stuttgart in the morning. When I got home in the evening I asked Lola: "Is it nice here? have you had good food at father's?" to which the answer--quite wide of the mark--was--"wo wald?" ( = where is the wood?) For I had been telling her about all she would be able to enjoy and that, among other delights, there would be the woods; as however, her afternoon walk had only lain through the fields, her mind was now absorbed with the one idea--"where was the wood?"--to the oblivion of everything else.
15 April: On this day the written question was put to her: "Why does Lola like going in the woods?" the reply was at once forthcoming, and I dictated it to Frau Professor Kindermann. "Where there is wood also deer and hare"--she was not quite clear in her spelling at first, indeed, in this respect she sometimes reminds one of a foreigner--as also in the matter of her grammatical mistakes.
The next day, after having done a few sums to please some friends who were present, she was asked: "Who is the dog in the room?" "I!" she replied--not "Lola" as we had all expected. (Rolf has as yet never alluded to himself as "I"!)
Two days later she was asked in writing: "How many dogs can reckon and spell?" To this she began her reply in a very brisk and lively mood, but soon wavered, as though at a loss for the right expressions, then followed a short pause--and finally she resumed her rapping with renewed animation. The reply, it will be noticed, is detailed, and does not keep to the plain question that had been put. "how many have been taken (for it)? Rolf talks, counts; two more" (short pause) "I also, also heinz and ilse." For, so as to fire her ambition, I had told her about her brother and sister, Heinz and Ilse.
19 April: "Lola," I asked, "what was it that ran away from you on the meadow?" "cat!" "What did you want to do with the poor cat?" "kill!" "Have you no pity?" "no!" "Then is the cat right if she kills you?" "_no!_" "Why?" (The reply to this was rapped indistinctly.) "Have you no pity for any man or animal?" "for dog!"...
22 April: I had told her that my brother was coming, and that he wore a field-grey coat and was a soldier. When he arrived I said to her: "Who is this?" "Your brother."
Next day she was asked in writing: "What did Lola see swimming in the water?" "duck!" I had shown her a duck on the previous afternoon.
26 April: On this day Lola appeared before Professors Kraemer, Mack, Kindermann and Ziegler, of Hohenheim, which resulted in these gentlemen forwarding the following statement to the "Mitteilungen für Tierpsychologie" ( = Communications respecting the psychology of Animals), series 1916; Number 1, p. 11:
"EXAMINATION OF LOLA BY PROFESSORS KRÄMER, MACK, KINDERMANN AND ZIEGLER
"In our presence Lola solved a number of sums, such as: 5 + 8 = 13. 30 + 10 - 15 = 25. 4 Mark - 1 mark 20 = 2 mark. 80.
"She next counted the number of persons present. After this, several dots were scattered about a sheet of paper: at first she put their number down as 19--but corrected this to 18. Lola then told us the time: it was 4.16m., and after this she did some spelling. When shown the picture of a flower she rapped: "blum" (Blume = flower), and to my somewhat faulty drawing of a cat she responded with "tir" (Tier = animal), while finally to the question of what was the name of the Mannheim dog she replied "mein fadr" (Vater = father)--we all having expected her to say Rolf. Then followed the musical tests which amazed us most of all, for here she exhibited an ability lacking in many an individual."
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27 April: Lola very tired: groans and does everything wrong. I said: "Are you lazy?" She replies "no." "Then why are you answering so badly?" "go!" "Who is to go?" "_tired!_"
29 April: I asked Lola why she had not attended to me on the 22nd, when--on a country expedition we had made together--she had insisted on running after the game when I had called her back. I had had to hunt after her for ten hours the next day, finding her--by the merest chance--at a peasant's house. She had settled down there alongside of a sheep-dog to watch the sheep, and seemed by no means pleased to see me; usually she is delighted! Her reply on this occasion was--"Lola went in wood, also lay down and was hungry." I returned to the question later in the afternoon when she made the rejoinder--"sought, didn't find."
30 April: Once more I returned to the incident mentioned above and Lola answered "to marry a dog"--(the consequences of this escapade becoming apparent, when Lola presented us with her litter of pups on 22 June). Then Lola added a spontaneous remark on her own account for, seeing a biscuit in my hand, she rapped "I to eat!"
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On 1 May little was forthcoming in the matter of arithmetic--with which we always began our lessons, for Lola rapped: "too tired."
3 May: In reply to my question as to what she had had to eat at the peasant's house she said: "milk."
The next day I asked her "where is my friend living now?" to which she answered. "Hanhof." (N.B. A name under which she includes the entire district). "What is the colour of the woods now?" And she answered. "Green." Then "Why are you looking at me so crossly?" "We." "In your head?" "Yes." "What has given you a headache?" "Learning."
8 May: Lola had been rolling herself about in some frightfully smelly mess--a thing she, like other dogs, never loses an opportunity of doing. "Do you _like_ that smell?" I asked. "Yes!" "But don't you know quite well that I do _not_ like it?" "Yes!" "Then why do you always do it again and again?" "I love it so!" The same afternoon, after her musical tests, the maid came into the room to lay the fire. "What is Kätchen doing at the stove?" I asked. "Fire," replied Lola.
The next day: "Lola! who do you like best of all people and animals?" "Ich!" (1). "If you mean _yourself_ you should say "mich" (myself)", so she at once rapped "mich!" "And after yourself?" "Dich!" ("thee," the familiar of you commonly used in German). A frank remark, at all events, and without the taint of human egoism!
10 May: Lola has been gnawing a bone: not knowing of what animal it was, I put the question to her and she replied: "re" (reh = deer). The truth of this being confirmed in the kitchen. I then asked: "What bones do you like best--deer, hares, wuzl" (this is her own name for a pig), "or ox?" Answer: "Wuzl!" "Are you pleased that you know more than other dogs?" "No." And then--as though after due reflection--"no!" (_Emphatically._)
11 May: I showed Lola a biscuit, shaped rather imperfectly in the form of a fish, saying: "What is this--an animal that swims in the water?" Reply: "Fish!" In this case I do not think she had really recognized it, but had named the only animal she knew of connected with water, which--after all--was rather clever of her!
12 May: "Lola!" I asked, "would you like to be a human being?" "No." "Why not?" I asked--showing her a biscuit. She (promptly): "I eat!" "No! not till you have answered!" "Because of work!" A little later I said: "Do you belong to me Lola?" Very energetically--"No!" "To whom do you belong then?" "To myself." "And to whom do I belong? do I belong to you?" "No!" "Whose Henny am I?" "Your own!" These amusing answers bear the very impress of the animal's sense of independence: she is loth to be considered a "chattel," like some chair or table!
17 May: In the presence of my friend and of two dogs I asked her--"Lola, why don't you like Dick?" (Dick being one of the dogs present.) "Too wild!" was Lola's comment. "What do you like best to eat?" "Ich ese wi so mag!" "Is that quite correct?" "No." "Which word should be different?" "4!" "Then what should it be?" "Ich." "So it is to be: ich esse wie ich mag?" "Ja!" ( = I eat as (or what) I choose.)
31 May: Lola did her sums badly, and I spoke very seriously to her; after which she improved, rapping out an independent remark: "say I am good!" She wanted to hear that I was ready to "make it up" again! That evening, some friends being present--I wrote on a scrap of paper--"bon jour!" showed it to her for a moment and then removed it, saying: "now rap what you have read!" And she rapped: "bon jur!" Having only missed out the "o"; the word had not been spoken, so that I had naturally thought to see the "o" among the other letters.
2 June: Lola was to write a letter to a lady whose daughter had been staying with me on a visit. The dog was much attached to this young lady, and had frequently worked with her. She began her letter with all sorts of nonsense so that at length I said: "First rap 'dear' and then tell her about the biscuits you had from Irene."
The letter: "Dear, certainly Irene is very nice to me" ... then "were" ... "What's the meaning of that?" I interrupted, but Lola lay down and said "Zu we!" ( = too indisposed.)
3 June: "Will you work now?" "No--we!" "Where have you a pain?" "O sag!" "What am I to say?" "Oh seh!" "But what am I to see?" "Ich!" "I am to look and see where you have a pain?" "Yes, yes!" But these "pains" seemed to have been called forth by laziness and possibly some slight fatigue.
15 June: A lady has come to stay with me for a few days and I said to Lola: "Why do you like Fräulien Grethe?" "Ich is zu artig." (This is indistinct but probably meant she is kind to me.) Presumably she could think of nothing else to say.
25 June: Lola had been brought indoors--away from her young family, and I said: "Is there anything you would like to have in the stable, now think?" "wenig uzi!" "What is uzi? do you mean music?" Answer. "Lid" ( = lied.) "What is that--singing?" "Yes!" "Do you like to listen to us when we sing?" "Yes, yes!"
24 July: "Lola! now think of something I am to do: give me an order!" (By the way, in reply to a similar question put to Rolf by the wife of Colonel Schweizerbarth, at Degerloch, he had commanded her to "wedeln" ( = to wag!) N.B. This word being only used in connexion with _a tail_ in German!) But Lola merely ordered me "to work"--"What am I to work at?" I inquired. "Raking the garden, reckoning, writing or reading?" And I was somewhat surprised, for she was used to seeing me at work at something or other for the greater part of the day; but after mature reflection she added--"ales" (Alles = everything).
27 July: To-day I invited her to tell me something she might be thinking about, adding: "Will you say something?" "Ja, esen." "Oh, Lola!" I said in desperation, "why all this talk about eating! about food! don't I hear enough of it from senseless labourers and maids? and now you begin too! It can't be otherwise, at present: say something else!" "Ich am esen" ... "What? _again!_ well go on" "... zu wenig narung." "Ich am essen zu wenig nahrung" ( = I from my food (derive) too little nourishment). "Ja!" Poor Lola!
10 August: To-day is my father's birthday: he is staying with us, and Lola was to give him a "good wish." I suggested all kinds of things, such as good health; long life; and so on, but she would have none of them. At last she rapped "Ich wunsche esen"; and after a short pause she continued, "... und ich auch" ( = I wish him food and for myself too.) "Now give him a second wish: something you yourself find good." So she said: "Re jagen und has...." "And a third?" "Heiraten" ( = to marry). Such were the dog's wishes for my father's natal day! Food, Hunting and Marriage ... the first one being ever the central idea in a dog's thoughts--and yet, how necessary are all these three wishes to the maintenance of species--"urged ever onward by the driving-power of hunger and of love!" after all--there is something very simple and direct about an animal!
30 August: To-day I asked Lola: "Do you wish every one to marry and have children?" "No." "Why not?" "Arbeiten unmöglich," ( = work impossible). "Go on: if it is impossible, one simply does not work!" "Und ausgen ..." "Go on?" "Auch zu vil esen!" (und ausser dem, zu viel essen = and besides that, too much eating). Here spoke experience.
1 September: Lola was shown some dots on a sheet of white paper, but declined to count them. "Why won't you count?" "Ich ursache one wisen!" ( = I have a cause (reason), without knowing (it)). Then she began to tremble violently, and I asked her why--to which she replied: "Ich kalt" (I (am) cold).
2 September: An old farm labourer and his wife had come to my room to see the dog, and in their honour Lola consented to do some sums. The old man was delighted when, on my suggestion, Lola spelt out his name: she rapped "Wilem," and when I said: "Did you hear that from me?" she answered: "No." "From his wife?" "Yes!" This accounted for the spelling, as the woman is from the Rheinland district, and says "Willem" for Wilhelm.
6 September: "Lola, why did you bite Jenny, yesterday?" (Jenny is a terrier lady-dog.) Answer. "Em ..." "What does that mean?" "Wüst a--a und renen." ( = she was a dirty dog and also hunted.)
7 September: Lola came in from the farm quite wet, and I wanted to know the reason of this, as only the woods were still wet from the recent rains. To my question she made answer: "I in wet." "Were you in the grass or in the woods?" I demanded. "Grass!" "Is the wet grass nice?" "Saw deer in wood--why I came to you!" In spite of such a tempting sight, she was evidently in a virtuous frame of mind: in earlier days she could never resist giving chase.
8 September: "Why are you not eating your food? is it bad?" "Yes!" "What is wrong about it?" "Smell!"
20 September: "Lola," I said, "give me the reason for why you are alive! do you know one?" "Yes, no."
The next day: "Now tell me your answer as to why you are living?" "Yes!" "Well?" "Egal ich lebe gern!"... (i.e. _egal_ is an expression of indifference, such as "_it is all the same to me_, I like living"). How simple and complete is the dog-point-of-view! "And is that all? didn't you wish to add something more?"... "in Welt" ( = in (the) world). The expression "egal" she will probably have picked up from me.
22 September: To-day I noticed by Lola's behaviour that she wanted to say something, so I put the question to her, and she replied. "Yes." "Well, go ahead!" "I wish to pay you for getting food for me!" "Do you want to give me money?" "Yes!" "But, where are you going to get it from--can you tell me that?" "Yes!" "From where?" "From you!" There was something quite logical about this way of arguing, for Lola had heard much talk about money, farm-hands being often paid by hour--and she had no doubt been an attentive listener and observer, at such transactions. Then--all of a sudden--she rapped. "I without work!" "What do you want to have?" "Haue!" ( = a beating!). I thought I had misunderstood her, so repeated--"haue?" "Yes!" "Say something else!" "Reckoning." But the fact remained that she really longed for a beating--not having had one for a long time, for to my repeated inquiries she kept on with "Yes!" So at length to make sure, I fetched my riding-whip and gave her a light flick, saying--"Is that what you want?" "Yes!" "And do you want more?" "Yes!" she insisted, though all of a tremble, and--unwillingly enough--I had to administer one more.
13 November: Lola had to write a letter to a lady of whom she is very fond: it ran as follows--"dear, I have just been in the yard, I like eating biscuits, I kiss you!" (I think this letter bears the evidence of being Lola's own composition!) Later in the afternoon, when she was out with me, I saw a notice put up saying: "Dogs are to be led on a leash"--and I invited her to read it, but she would only give it a glance. Both on our way back, and when we got home I returned to the subject, saying: "What was on that notice-board?" But she rapped "No!" "What? you mean to say you don't know?" She had, however, already started rapping again--"ich unaro...." "Go on! surely the _o_ should be a _t_?" (Thinking she meant unartig = naughty). "No!" "Then what should it be?" "No." "Is it a dog's word?" "Yes!" "Well, tell me in a way that I can understand!" "No!" "You can't do so?" "No!" "Say something like it!" "Ja! ich irre, ich es ansehe morgen!" ( = yes! I erred, I (will) look at it to-morrow!)
On one occasion I had explained to her that there were also other languages; English and French, for instance, and I now once more tried to influence her memory by my own thoughts.