These two girlies aren't friends and they probably won't ever be ...
they're as different as salt and sugar, with different needs
and quite opposite approaches to living in this world of humans
where they depend on us for most everything.
They both crave human companionship
but you won't find them trying to acquire it in the same way.
What do you see when you look at this photo ...
how would you interpret Quinn's busy-ness with her stick
while Isla stands nearby on such high alert?
They are about six feet apart.
I'm inside the house with a long lens - Quinn is watching me through the window
because she knows from past experience [see that light green ball in the right foreground?]
at any moment, I may come out the door to play fetch with her.
Isla, on the other hand, is ruled by a fierce prey drive
and has her attention focused on the lower branch of a nearby tree.
This drive - stronger than her drive to play - keeps her fixated on her "prize" ...
which on this morning is the resident bald eagle who's just landed on the lower branch
of the fir tree on our southern boundary. She's prepared for a chase.
[Don't worry ... this game has been going on for years ... the eagles pay her no mind.]
What struck me today when I re-found this picture from winter 2012
was how these girlies communicate so perfectly via body language.
How they read each other [I know you're there, but I need some distance],
read humans [I know you're there, wanna play? ... or ... I'm busy right now],
read their environment [it's a cold, frosty morn but I'm so happy in the sunshine] ...
all the while watching for signals to interpret and react to
in one millesecond.
They speak Dog and
I speak English ...
but I ask you, what language do we ultimately speak together?