I once knew a dog named Newton who had a unique (1) of humor. Whenever I tossed out a Frisbee for him to chase, he’d take off in hot pursuit but then seem to lose track of (2). Moving back and (3) only a yard or two from the toy, Newton would look all around, even up into the trees. He seemed genuinely puzzled. Finally, I’d give up and head into the field to help him (4). But (5) sooner would I get within 10 feet of him than he would run invariably straight over to the Frisbee, grab it and start running like mad, looking over his shoulder with what looked suspiciously like a grin.
Just about every pet owner has a story like this and is eager to share it with anyone who will listen. On very short notice, TIME reporters came up (6) 25 stories about what each is convinced is the smartest pet in the world. Among them: the cat who closes the door behind him when he goes into the bathroom; the cat who uses a toilet (7) of a little box and flushes it afterward; the dog who goes wild when he sees his owner putting on blue jeans instead of a dress because jeans mean it is time to play; and the cat who used to wait patiently at the bus stop every day for a little girl, then walk her the six blocks home. And so on.
These behaviors are certainly clever, but what do they mean? Was Newton really deceiving? Can a cat really desire privacy in the toilet? In short, (8) household pets really have mental and emotional life? Their owners think so, but until recently, animal behavior experts would have gone mad on hearing such a question. The worst sin in their moral vocabulary was anthropomorphism, projecting human traits onto animals. A dog or a cat might behave as if it (9) angry, lonely, sad, happy or confused, but that was only in the eye of the viewers. What was going on, they insisted, was that the dog or cat had been conditioned, through a perhaps unintentional series of (10) and rewards, to behave in a certain way. The behavior was a mechanical result of the training.
