It has been nearly a year since we adopted Georgia, but early on I discovered a “language” difference I never imagined existed: apparently, I do not call my dog to me in Spanish.
When I call my dog to come, I say her name and make kissy noises. “What is that?” my husband asked the first time I did this.
“What do you mean? I am calling the dog.”
“That is not how you call a dog. That is how you call a horse.”
I then remembered this sound he would make to call a friend’s cat. So I made that. “Pitscha, pitscha!”
“What?! That is for a cat!” he said.
“You have different calls for cats and dogs?”
“Yes, don’t you?”
I thought about and realized that no, unless I am in some sort of calling competition, which I have never been in, I would call all animals the same way.