Why I like The Dog Whisperer

First, before you conclude I’m working in a perfect vacuum of critical intelligence, here are a few reasons that are not why I like it. I don’t watch the show to get in touch with my inner pack leader, or because I think TDW and his dogs are cute.

I like it because it’s another of the infinite examples of the old chestnut that the best way to teach humans is through positive reinforcement.

I also like it because the guy has an almost magical ability to read human body language and to always leave ‘em with a big dose of self esteem. Which brings me, albeit rather circuitously, to my cat.



In our first picture, we initially notice nothing amiss. A Japanese lady, out for a stroll to admire the chrysanthemums from the bridge. But look again. There behind her. She is about to be attacked by Catzilla. What happens next could have been avoided if only she had taken to heart the warnings posted on TDW’s show about not trying this without a professional.

I should say something about 9/11. Here’s a quote from Slate’s article about forbidden thoughts and 9/11 reactions: “Within 12 hours of the tragedy, it occurred to me that they'll never, ever show that great episode of the "The Simpsons" where the family goes to New York and Homer has to take a whiz in the World Trade Center”. (Daniel Price, 31-year-old writer, born in Manhattan, corrupted in Los Angeles). So sad. So true.

Which brings me, albeit rather non-sequiturly, the another picture of my cat.

After the separation of death one can eventually swallow back one's grief, but
the separation of the living is an endless, unappeasable anxiety.
Tu Fu, Dreaming of Li Po