pretended to be dead. Rolf now got very excited, and wanted to go on
rapping--first on my hand, and then on the leather-covered sofa on
which I was sitting. I became rather uneasy and got him to go and rap
to Fräulein Moekel, for I could then follow the raps far better. And
what he now had to say referred to the deceitful ox--it was: "Hat
Recht: Lol immer sagen Bauchweh!" ( = Quite right of him! Lol always
says he has a pain in his stomach!)
"After this I showed him another box of biscuits, with a picture of a
little nigger-boy on the lid, and asked:
"'What do you see on this?'
"To which he eagerly replied:
"'Wüst schwarz Bub!' ( = A wild black boy!)
"Rolf then received his reward, and I took a grateful leave of the
Moekels--accompanied by little Lola.
"This experience of coming into personal contact with Rolf's powers of
self-expression made a deep and lasting impression on me. In spite of
all the accounts I had read and heard this living proof was almost
overpowering in its utter novelty, and in the feeling of emotion that
came over me, I seemed to sense that 'Souls' Unrest' that a transition
from the old conception of 'unreasoning' animals to this new cognition
is bound to bring with it.
"My visit had been so short that I had not been able to put any
questions as to the method of instruction pursued. I had not been able
to experiment personally nor get any actual advice, for Frau Dr. Moekel
had died in the autumn of 1915. Yet I was by no means displeased at my
state of ignorance when I came to reflect on the matter, for it enabled
me to 'blaze a trail,' as it were, according to my own way of thinking,
perhaps even, enabling me to arrive accidentally at similar or,
diametrically opposite results!"
LOLA
Lola is an Airedale terrier, born at Mannheim on 27 January, 1914, a
daughter of Rolf, and of the equally thorough-bred Jela. Both these
dogs were owned by the family of a barrister, Dr. Moekel. The Airedale
terrier resembles the dog we call a "Schnauzer"; it is wire-haired and
of medium growth; generally with a greyish-black coat and yellow feet.
Its head is covered with silky curls beneath which two bright eyes are
seen. These dogs are distinguished for their alert and attentive
bearing, while their excellent constitution renders them specially
suitable for being trained to useful pursuits; they are at the same
time not an over-bred race. Professor Heck, writing on the subject of
these dogs (see "Communications of the Society for Animal Psychology"),
says:
"We are indebted to Herr Gutbrod of Bradford for the fact that this dog
has already become fairly well distributed among us. If I have been
rightly informed regarding the Airedale's history it is a crossbreed
between the otter-hound and the bull-terrier, this strain having been
originally obtained by the factory hands of Airedale in the North of
England, who thus sought to obtain a hardy dog--one not afraid of
water, and that would prove a useful assistant when out poaching either
water-fowl, hares or rabbits, occasions on which it is of importance to
carry out the work with as little noise as possible.
"This breed provides a favourite 'house dog'; they have proved
invaluable as Army Medical Service dogs, and are friendly with
children. Jocularly they are called (in Germany) Petroleum dogs ( = a
play on the name Airedale, as pronounced in German, i.e. 'Erd-oel'").
As already said, Lola's parents were the much spoken-of Rolf, the
so-called "thinking" or "speaking" dog, and Jela, no longer owned by
the Moekels. Jela seems to have been an unimportant little animal, not
even very affectionate as a mother. The litter Lola was dropped at
consisted of twelve pups; of these one died at once, and after the
vicissitudes puppies are heirs to, those that remained and have become
known to us, are Heinz, Harras, Ilse, and Lola. The first-named three
all have their different owners by whom they are being taught with a
certain amount of success--as indeed their reports have shown.
Previously to coming into my possession, Lola, had been removed from
Mannheim at an early age, and had passed through many hands,
undergoing, moreover, the most various attempts of instruction. Lack of
time and also the war, had been answerable for these changes; twice,
however, her own fidgetiness had resulted in her being deemed
unsuitable, and it was felt that the attempt had proved a failure. Even
Frau Dr. Moekel, into whose hands she had finally returned is said not
to have thought much of her, having only been able to get her to learn
"yes" ( = 2), and "no" ( = 3). I mention this, because it became clear to
me later on that the success of such teaching does not depend solely on
the patience, the love and the attention, nor even on the ability to,
or the faculty for sensing the feelings of other creatures: not on the
sympathy nor yet on the calm of individual persons, but rather on _a
particular person being suited to a particular dog_.
No matter how great the ability of both the individual and the dog may
be, should their temperaments not be in accord--every attempt will be
fruitless. For instance, I feel very sure that I could not have taught
Rolf; also that I shall never be able to get a sheep-dog (I still
possess) to do more than answer "yes" and "no"; also that it would be
the easiest thing for me to instruct Lola's daughter Ula--and so forth.
There are, in short, "winners" and "blanks" and betwixt the two, every
grade of differentiation. Yet, is this not equally true in the case of
teaching children? The best of teachers need not prove equally suitable
to all his pupils, while some other will turn out to be exactly the
right person. And this only shows us the difficulties which so
frequently obstruct the path of the best-intentioned people--where
investigations are concerned; obstructions which they themselves
oft-times do not notice, and to which no thought is given by prejudiced
persons. For with animals we come up against a more acute degree of
sensitiveness than we do in a child, which, owing to certain rudiments
of common sense, is able to adapt itself more easily to either teacher
or investigator.
Lola had remained with the Moekels for some time after the decease of
that estimable lady; it was, however, ultimately found desirable to
find other homes for some of the dogs. It was about that time that my
inquiry as to the possibility of procuring a descendant of Rolf reached
Professor Ziegler, and he at once seconded my application. Thus Lola
was kindly placed at my disposal. At first I felt some misgivings owing
to the fact that the dog was already two years old, and had also passed
through numerous hands, yet I determined to go to Mannheim, and my
visit took place as above narrated. Lola made a most delightful
impression on me, and I put few tests to my choice, for I was in a
state of some excitement after all that had taken place, and therefore
took her away with me joyfully. It had seemed as if I _must_ do this.
It was on 11 January, 1916. She sat in the railway carriage with me,
and began to howl violently when she saw Mannheim disappearing from her
gaze. I tried to console her, saying: "Don't cry! You shall be quite
happy with me!" It was then that Lola looked at me for the first time
attentively. She quieted down and our friendship seemed sealed. She was
apparently resigned to her fate; she was also doubtless aware that she
had played "second fiddle" at Mannheim, and that it would, therefore,
be preferable to be somewhere "on her own." That something of the kind
was passing through her mind I could see--also that she was quite aware
that she now belonged to me, and imagined she would be alone with me.
This latter surmise became evident as soon as we reached my home where
the sheep-dog I had had for two years rushed out to welcome me.
Then Lola gazed at me with horror and disappointment; the reproach in
her eyes was such that I could not but understand, and then--the two
dogs flew at each other, for, in the meantime the sheep-dog had begun
to understand too! This was remarkable, for male and female dogs do not
as a rule fall foul of each other. For days I kept them apart in
separate rooms, for the mere sight of each other occasioned deep
growls--indeed, my position had become distinctly uncomfortable. Then I
suddenly remembered having heard that if two dogs are allowed to come
together--without their master being present, they will generally get
to agree. I therefore hastily shut them both into one room, and went
out into the fields!
When in the course of an hour's time I came home again, each dog was
reposing in a corner--the image of peace; there was no further fracas,
and there has never been any trouble since. Later on, indeed, both
became good friends, and often played together, but it was a risky
experiment and grim forebodings had beset me on that walk! But having
occasion to apply the same cure in another case, I met with the same
success again.
BEGINNING THE TUITION.
Lola had been four days with me--accompanying me through the house, and
about the farm, at first on a lead, but soon without. Her extreme
animation verged on wildness; I was struck with her elastic temperament
and her constant attentiveness, and it seemed to me that this dog would
hardly be able to sit still for five minutes. She already knew "yes,"
and "no," and in my joy at possessing a dog able to answer me, I put so
many questions to her that I began to be afraid I might do her some
injury. I was, in fact, so afraid, so in doubt as to my understanding,
and so alive to my responsibilities in the matter, that I often wished
I had not accepted the dog at all. I did not even know whether I could
"teach"--much less whether I could "teach a dog," whom, moreover, no
hereditary "urge" would induce to attend school once she knew that this
would mean having to work and be attentive!
Doubts as to whether the dog understood me; in what way she understood
me; what sort of creature a dog really was--whether she could "think,"
"feel," or even whether she was capable of hearing in the same way as
we hear; able to see in the same way that we see with our eyes; whether
she already possessed some cognition of the human language, and whether
this possessed any meaning for her? For all at once I _knew_ that I
_knew nothing_. That I had not even the least idea as to the best
manner to assume, whether I ought to be gentle or strict--these are but
a few of the difficulties I found myself beset by. I was, in short,
almost in despair. How could I presume to form an opinion, supposing
that, merely to my own shortcomings, the animal remained an animal,
that is--in as far as I was concerned--an "animal" in the same sense
that all creatures have been, since time immemorial--according to man's
opinion? How should I dare to attempt to add my contribution to man's
store of knowledge in so weighty a matter without as much as knowing
whether I possessed the requisite patience--a genuine gift for
imparting tuition, and a sufficient measure of devotion? Above all, how
could I have been so foolhardy as to have undertaken to make my
investigations in connexion with a descendant of Rolf's! Indeed, my
only excuse could be my intense love of knowledge, my reverence and
high regard for science. Science--whose temple we may enter only when
filled with intensest Will, and with pure Truthfulness vowed to the
furtherance of her Service--be the results sweet or bitter, fraught
with success or failure, easy or difficult, new, or along the well-worn
paths. It was in _this_ sense that I sought to adventure--was bound to
venture, for the die was cast. It was, therefore, with all the powers I
could bring to my aid that I decided to embark on my quest--no matter
what the attendant results might force me to acknowledge. I would
disregard no test that might prove a contribution towards the solving
of this new question.
Vowed to these responsibilities I sat down opposite to my dog and
began. Said I to myself: She knows that she has to rap with her paws,
and that rapping _twice_ or _three_ times does not mean the same thing;
she knows, therefore, that the difference between these numbers of raps
has some meaning. I then began to count to her on my fingers--at first
from one to five and then back, finally taking the numbers irregularly
and then holding up as many fingers as composed the number in question.
To my surprise the dog was quiet and attentive, and I therefore soon
continued to count up to ten. In order to enforce this lesson more I
placed a row of small lumps of sugar in front of her, counting them as
I did so--for it seemed to me that these might draw her attention more
to the _numbers_. And I also rewarded her from time to time with a
little bit for having sat so still. Then, holding up four fingers, I
ventured with the question: "How many fingers do I show? Rap out the
number!" And to my joy she rapped "4!" Yet, thinking this might have
been accidental, I held up five and said: "Rap out this number!" and
taking hold of her paw this time in order to make her tap her answer on
the palm of my hand. After this I ceased my questions, for it seemed
impossible that she should have comprehended so readily, but I went on
just repeating the numbers to her. On the following day I also only
counted, and then began questioning again, for I could not understand
why she refused to look at my hands any more, and was continually
yawning. Therefore, without holding out my hands, I asked her: "How
many make six?" At which she gave six raps. I could hardly believe it,
so I asked her: "four?" and she replied with four raps. I asked for
five, and she answered correctly. I was now confident that she did
understand; but what mystified me was the celerity with which her
answers were given, for allowing even that she had understood, this
swiftness seemed incomprehensible, and I decided to form no opinion
until I had tested her with higher numbers, and should be in a position
to discount the possibility of accident.
On the third day--after the preliminary counting--I got as far as ten
by means of questions, and ten seemed for some days to be the limit
set--calling on me to halt, as it were. This notion led me to teach the
dog addition first so as by this means to get over the simple questions
as to the numbers, which were always given correctly.
All this I found quite easy to do, either using my fingers or using
lumps of sugar for my purpose; I was at the same time careful to speak
very distinctly and to use as few complicated phrases as possible. I
would say, for instance, "Look here! two fingers and two fingers are
1--2--3--4 fingers!" But soon she ceased to follow with her eyes, so
that I became disheartened and thought I had gone ahead too rapidly,
or, had not roused sufficient interest; not waiting for the
psychological moment, but seeking to handle the sensitive mechanism of
a sentient creature too roughly. Yet--surely this could not be so, for,
after all, I was but tentatively trying, and, indeed it was open to me
"to try"--even if without confidence! I then said: "How much is two and
five?" doing so without illustrating the question with my fingers, and
the dog rapped seven! I felt a warm thrill of delight, yet I controlled
my joy and proceeded with my questions, although at that moment I said
to myself: "A living creature has given you a conscious answer!"
We now continued: "1 and 3?" Answer: "4." "2 and 6?" Answer: "8." This
seemed to me enough for one day, and I allowed her to scamper off with
a reward for her diligence; then I sat and meditated on my experience.
The fact was evident: the dog had understood me--I had seen it in her
eyes. She had reflected first and had then tapped the palm of my hand
with unwavering certainty. I had seen the process and had felt it. Now,
it is not wise to be guided by one's feelings alone--our judgment
should be unbiased, and so I decided to test these facts according to
reason and in every conceivable way. Yet, no one having once
experienced what I had, could ever forget the sensation, for it was
like the dawning of some great truth, rising suddenly before one's
eyes--clear and immense. It appeared to me as some beautiful gift of
life, and I was seized with a feeling of reverence for all that may yet
lie undiscovered. For this new light of which I had caught the first
flash, as though reflected in some bright crystal such as I might hold
in my hand--how I yearned to transmit it--to pass this gift--this
joy--on to others as soon as the veil should have further lifted and
the horizon have become wider. And, before passing on again to the
practical and scientific side of these investigations, I should like to
say that where we have to do with warm, pulsating life, feeling too has
its rights, and must go hand-in-hand with reason. For it is feeling,
love and patience that must first penetrate the _subject-matter_,
while to reason is assigned the studying, the weighing and the proving
along the path pursued by the creative, seeking spirit of man. Such is
man: how humble by comparison is the animal! Yet should our love
henceforth assign to it its own place--as well as its own rights--as
our lowlier companion in the work of life.
Soon I ventured beyond ten. For lack of any more fingers I got a
counting frame, such as small children use at school, and the red and
white wire-strung balls assisted me to explain my meaning as plainly as
I could. I had forgotten the exact manner in which such lessons had
been given me, but I hoped for the best! Indeed, "logic" was part and
parcel of every step taken during this course of instruction. Never
having taught before, I was desperately anxious to give a logical--a
reasonable--explanation of everything to this other being respecting
those things which were quite clear to me. Those, too, who saw the dog
was learning something new, also felt that she seemed to arrive at what
I explained to her with great rapidity and by exercising thought; that,
moreover, she understood the matter as I understood it, and all were
convinced that there could be no doubt but that she _did think_.
I asked her, "14," "12," "15"? And the right answers were given. Then
it occurred to me that with these high numbers the rapping must be an
exertion, especially over a period of time, and I then called to mind
about Krall's horses who had rapped out the decimals with their left
hoof, and the units with their right. The next thing, therefore, was to
make her understand the difference between "right" and "left." I took
each paw in turn, saying "right paw!" and "left paw!" And it took her
longer to remember that than I had expected, seeing how quick she had
been up to the present. Yet, at length this too was accomplished and
she gave each paw without mistake. Strange as it may seem, I found
later on that abstract reckoning and spelling came easily enough, while
the movements of any particular portion of the body--with the exception
of those habitually practised--were always attended with greater
difficulty. It would seem as if she understood rightly enough _with her
head_, but had some trouble in translating what she understood into
active motion; and this applies to all, excepting, of course, such
movements as are the result of heredity, where no words, but some other
incentive, such as "scent" may possibly come into play. It is difficult
for human beings to grasp that there is life in the sub-conscious, and
that it is in those sub-conscious regions that the will to act arises.
I now explained to her: "When you give your _left_ paw _once_, it is to
count as _ten_; when you give your _right_ paw _once_, it is to count
as _one only_. For, you see, if we go on counting there is too much
work for one paw to do and it takes too long. Therefore if you want to
say '12,' you must give the _left_ paw _once_, and the _right_ paw
_twice_." I repeated this several times and then asked: "How do you rap
fifteen?" And Lola rapped one (10) with the left paw and five times
with the right. It was evident that she had understood me perfectly!
This gave me confidence, and that day we did additions up to twenty,
all of which were successful. Indeed, the dog showed much interest in
her work, and came to it readily. As a rule ten to fifteen minutes in
the morning, and another quarter of an hour in the afternoon was
lesson-time. As the results were generally successful, I was sometimes
tempted to continue my questions for a little longer, and she would go
on answering until at length she began to sigh--then I knew that she
was tired. And after such extra exertion I would notice the next day
both by the pupils of her eyes and her nervous trembling, that she had
been over-worked--and the thought of it makes me feel ashamed, even to
this day; for, was I not undertaking the whole study for the sake of
animal creation, and to think that I might have been inflicting any
cruelty was unbearable. And, indeed, as time went on, this did not
occur again, for I kept a keener watch. Soon, too, her capabilities
increased, and she was able to fulfil more easily the greater demands
made on her when answering to questions. With regard to decimals and
units, I made a discovery which is, I think, worth stating. The dog did
not look at me, but seemed, on the contrary (on this occasion), much
interested in gnawing the leg of a chair, and I thought she could not
have understood me, or else she would surely have looked up at me. Yet,
she had apparently only done this to cover her confusion--as it were!
Indeed, this was evident from her expression, and she had heard
everything right enough, for she then--and ever after--rapped her
replies without "visualizing"--and I mentally returned thanks to Karl
Krall for the practical advice he had given me, and which had been so
opportune. Rolf rapped with one paw only, as has already been stated;
one was, therefore, obliged at length to put the question to him: "1 or
10?" And Rolf would then say "yes" or "no," as the case might be. This
is confusing for the onlookers, and, as a matter of fact, when I saw
him at Mannheim I never knew for certain what number he had indicated.
But with Krall's method of using alternate hoof or paw, any confusion
or doubt is ruled out.
CONTINUED TUITION
Lola and I had now become to some extent accustomed to each other, and
the daily progress assisted this mutual understanding. I felt that I
had become calmer and more self-possessed, and this, too, reacted on
the dog. I did my best to make the subjects interesting, and I soon had
only to call her to lessons for her to scamper up to me quite eager to
begin. I also attempted to make her understand that she would be able
to help other dogs--in fact, help all dear animals, if she was
industrious, thus showing people how much a dog could do--when it was
able to count and spell! I told her how much kinder people would then
be to animals, instead of treating them as though they were no better
than wood or stone, and I instanced all Rolf could do, and told her of
the good uses his abilities had been put to. And from thence forward I
rewarded her for every good bit of work with either biscuits or sugar,
on the principle that any creature that works is worthy of wage, since
man receives either food or money. And I would here like to say that I
once heard that the judges examining both Rolf and the horses had taken
exception to the fact of the animals being encouraged to work by being
given "rewards"; where, I wonder, is the man who will labour
unrequited? There will, of course, always be exceptional individuals
who will do a thing _for its own sake_--yet--after all--do not _they_,
too, seek their reward? albeit in a more idealistic manner, since it
will consist in the success of their undertaking.
Yet these gentlemen thought that animals ought to exhibit the ethical
single-mindedness of exceptional individuals! The "mere beast"--so
belittled, as a rule that it is vouchsafed less "right to the earth"
than is the sole of a man's foot! How significant this may be said to
be of the mental attitude in which these gentlemen sat in judgment:
men, who, doubtless, considered they were doing their very utmost in
the service of science!