Tucker has noticed something disturbing and sad about humans. Every time he tries to talk with them, they don't seem to understand what he is saying. Even his parents, with whom he interacts daily, only seem to track every fourth or fifth word. And even then, Tucker's more complex thoughts get distilled down to the basest needs. When his parents (who are genetically closer to monkeys than canines, after all) try to rephrase his statements as questions, they ask, "Tucker want to outside?" and "you want pets good boy?" and the one that makes Tucker sit down and sigh is when they ask, "you gotta go bathroom little man?"
Not only is it frustrating for Tucker, but a little insulting. Sometimes Tucker likes to work out his theories on the new physics techniques of jet propulsion and the correlative soico-economic impact it creates among developing nations in the Socratic method through dialogue. It chaps his hide to think that the only input his parents have revolves round petting, feeding and excreting bodily fluids.
Luckily for
Tucker, his siblings are all very intelligent and somewhat conversive. After they have their morning coffeee, of course. This isn't to say all dogs are more intelligent than humans and better at expressing themselves. Only that most dogs are. Tucker is personally worried about the stunted mental abilities of the neighborhood dogs, especially that weird banjo playing pack of Cocker Spaniels who linger about the back gate smoking cigarettes and drinking home made liquor. They may have evolved from squirrels after all.
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