Lie to Me

I've been watching the show Lie to Me recently, on Netflix. It's definitely worth a view, if you get a change, and it's yet another wonderful show that has been cancelled.

It's interesting in that literally any story can be told there. There are mysteries and murders and all sorts of things. And then it got me thinking; humans lie to one another, but do animals?

Really, I can't lie to Elka. I don't particularly want to, first off, but she's also got a severe sensory advantage over me. She knows if I don't have food. She can tell, by my body chemistry and by subtle signals that I put off, whether I'm happy, or sad, or angry. You know those conversations that you have with people? "how was your day?" "fine?" Elka knows if it wasn't fine. Granted, some people simply don't want to hear about your crappy day, and the socially acceptable answer is, in fact, "fine".

But really, Elka wants everybody to be fine.

Elka herself will engage in baseline deception, however. If I come home to work not twenty minutes after Jim has taken her out to relieve herself, she'll still tell me that she has to go out. This isn't a malicious deception, by any means; she just likes being outside, and she knows I'll take her if she asks in just the right way (one of these days, I have to get a recording of her saying "Out"). If we're outside, she gets to see and smell all kinds of things, and maybe we'll play with the tennis balls! There might be a deer! Or a cat! It's a world of possibilities!

And you know what? If I haven't had the best of days, going out back and playing tennis can be a lot of fun, especially at the speeds that Elka is able to attain.