It’s the universal dog signal for “What the…?”  They stare at you, tilt their head to one side or the other, and you can almost hear them thinking “Wha…”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9dESqrCO_jE

From the first day of domesticated dogs, owners have asked the age-old question, “I wonder what he’s thinking.”  Of course, sometimes, like when a dog chews up his bed and makes it snow Styrofoam and feathers, then it’s “What was he thinking?”

Correct them, scold, them, ask them a question, read the Wall Street Journal to them, doesn’t matter, you get this…

Except Lewis.  In the two years since he has ruled over his kingdom here, not once have I ever seen him tilt his head in bewilderment.  I figure this is a result of one or a combination of the following:

• Lewis is never bewildered. He doesn’t tilt his head, he stares.  At the television, at you begging him to do this or that.  Why should he tilt his head?  He knows the score, and he’s ahead in this game.
• He is concentrating. He doesn’t need to tilt his head and wonder.  He’s confident enough to figure it out on this own thank you very much.
• Which brings us to my favorite. Lewis just doesn’t give a (reference Rhett Butler here).

Any one of the above explanations could apply.  The baseline in all three is that Lewis is smart.  Very few dogs are not smart.  They all amaze me.  The fact that they tilt their heads to begin with shows that they are progressing through the maze of rational thought.  When Lewis stares, I’m not sure he is progressing through rational thought so much as he is asking himself two questions: first, do I care about this, and second, do I want to do this? All of which makes me even more curious.  For instance, when I walk through the back part of the house and he runs through the front part of the house to cut me off, what is he thinking.  When he chews a stick into a million pieces, what is he thinking.  When he stares at animals on television but not people…what…well, you get the picture.

I never know what he is thinking, but I know what I think!   I think in this one aspect, he is like all dogs lucky enough to be rescued – he’s happy.  When you walk up to him and he belly flops that 140 pounds on the floor, sticks his legs up in the air and stares at you with those eyes, I finally know what he is thinking.  Pet me, feed me, love me.  It’s the universal thought among dogs, especially rescue dogs.  They want to be loved, but even more than that, they want to love.  Lewis is a big galoot, but he’s also a big white ball of love and loyalty.  I think that is what he is thinking most of the time.