Scientists believe that dogs do, in fact, experience dreams. This is something dog owners have known all along. One glance at a sleeping puppy, with his legs moving in a running motion will tell you he’s on a spectacular adventure, if only in his dreams. Researchers using an electroencephalogram (EEG) have tested canine brain wave activity during sleep. They’ve found that dogs are similar to humans when it comes to sleep patterns and brain wave activity. Like humans, dogs enter a deep sleep stage during which their breathing becomes more irregular and they have rapid eye movements (REM). It is during REM sleep that actual dreaming and, often, involuntary movements take place.
Interestingly, not all dog dreams are alike. Research suggests that small dogs dream more than larger dogs. A Toy Poodle may dream once every ten minutes while a Golden Retriever may only dream once every 90 minutes. Dreaming also seems to occur more frequently in puppies. This may be because they are processing huge quantities of newly acquired experiences.
So, what do dogs dream about? Since no dog has ever told anyone about a dream he’s had (at least not our dogs), we can only guess. It’s likely that dogs dream in a similar fashion to humans, replaying the everyday activities that make up their existence, like chasing, playing, and eating.
Try It
Write a poem about a dream your favorite four-legged friend had. What kind of adventure? Write from the dog’s perspective and craft your dog’s “voice.”
Featured Poem
Thanks to everyone who participated in last week’s poetry prompt. Here is a poem from Andrew we enjoyed:
There lie some worlds we cannot see
Within our thoughts and in our minds
That hold – unseen – such folk as strange
As any that a sleeping dreamer finds.
And here I wandered long of old, was told
That I was vague or far, my name was mist
Upon a wind of thought. But how I sang
Within the chains of thought, just like the stars
As they bed down for day. Sometimes I look
Into the heaven’s vault that hides such wonders
And I think of tales our fathers knew, of love for
Sweeping rain, soft mist and mighty thunder.
Within some eldritch mystic wood the people walk
For nothing but to cry that they exist unto the sky –
And there I walked, and there I flew and sang
Without regard to how the minutes swept me by.
And I was happy, ’til the rolling years
Locked gates I’d never known to be.
But shush, as Thomas cried of time
I’ll sing despite the chains, and my voice
Will be as the sea.
—by Andrew
Photo by Richard Walker. Creative Commons via Flickr.
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How to Write a Poem uses images like the buzz, the switch, the wave—from the Billy Collins poem “Introduction to Poetry”—to guide writers into new ways of writing poems. Excellent teaching tool. Anthology and prompts included.
“How to Write a Poem is a classroom must-have.”
—Callie Feyen, English Teacher, Maryland
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- Animate: Lions & Lambs Poetry Prompt - March 12, 2018
- Poetry Prompt: Behind the Velvet Rope - February 26, 2018
Glynn says
My son has two Boston terriers, Lucy and Frank. Their energy level is such that it seems more like six.
Lucy the Boston Terrier Dreams
Food food food nap
one eye open food
squirrel squirrel chase
mouse chase catch nap
treat treat treat walk or
walk walk walk treat
someone’s cooking chicken
food food food smell
that chicken I better
get some or someone’s
gets their ankle nipped
food food food nap
squirrel bird mouse
leave my bowl alone
Frank
Heather Eure says
Love this, Glynn! “…nap squirrel bird mouse leave my bowl alone Frank” This makes me giggle.
Donna says
The pacing of this poem feels just like a dog! 😉 love it!
Rick Maxson says
Glynn, I love “leave my bowl alone/Frank” And those squirrels do haunt deeply the dog’s brain. They will bound out of a moving car after one, if not prevented.
Donna says
Humans chase their tails
While I seelp in a slight pool
of cookie crumbs drool.
Sandra Heska King says
I know I chase my tail a lot. 🙂
Heather Eure says
Aww, adorable! I can picture it. <3
Rick Maxson says
In dreams
they come back to you,
not your best years,
link on link on link,
moving, rattle-steel
on wood bark,
then the wolf
in you, the breath
opened, breath yet
rising after you, ascending beyond,
even now, with the imprisoned rain
—but then—
the streets, yours,
the gathering of trees, yours,
the frightening and familiar, yours—
to be free by choice,
and lost by freedom,
so much like drops of rain
you shook from their refuge
behind the guard hairs
and nestled in the down—
what quenched you
grew deep, grew round,
and drowning, lurked
between the shadows of woods,
the shivering and slender shelters,
—lost is a blade of days
honed into countless cuttings—
to be found by fear,
by shout and sheer abduction,
a cage without keys inside you,
formed friendless—
—but awake now—
you pound the floor
with your great tail to greet me,
the story of you trapped in language,
the sojourn of you beyond imagination.
Heather Eure says
“…the story of you trapped in language,” Love this, Rick.
Sandra Heska King says
Dog Dream–Or Not
It looked like an ordinary brown rabbit,
but then it was big, at least ten feet tall
when it stood, and green, with ears that
tickled the top of that tree.
Its tail was as plump as a volleyball,
and its paw grasped a red-bellied woodpecker
with a beak as long as a fire poker.
I barked and growled and scrambled
at the window. It pointed that beak at me
like a gun, and then… it was gone. Poof!
I ran to the back door and back to the front
and back to the back, and back to the front.
And there it was! In the living room.
That tall, green, killer rabbit with flaming red eyes
and a woodpecker gun. I rushed at it.
I leaped for it. But it slipped like a vapor
behind the sofa cushions. I tore into them
like a lion after its prey. Stuffing flew
everywhere, and well… that’s what happened.
Why are you screaming at me? I saved the family.
Didn’t I?
Heather Eure says
My dog has asked the same exasperated questions. …and I suppose, yes, he did save the family– if only that torn up thing were a threat. Fun poem, Sandra!
Rick Maxson says
I loved this! Why else would a dog dig up the sofa, but to save the family. Of course, praising him or her would mean a sizable investment in sofas.
Andrew H says
Green fields, corn in the wind
Strange sights – the water way
And rabbit-warren of the earth
Laid clear beneath the eye of day
With stranger prey – I know their
Thought as they flee from the hunt
For I too am chased in my dream.
Pound, heart song, pound as I run
From the sound of hunt and gun.
Do I chase the prey, or do the men
Chase me?
All I know is the hunt. It runs like
Blood within my veins. Paws stretch
To feel the soil crumble beneath me
And I can fly, fly, fly. Until the horn
Sounds to remind me – today, some
Beast must die. And is it wrong?
I feel the sinew of my past, the jaws
That clench, the iron tang of blood.
And yet, man loved me as man could.
Hills flash in emerald green – first playing
In a field with ball and lead, the next
Coursing to horn’s intoxicating tune.
Hunter, player, lover, hater – I am of all
Inside my mind. And yet, without, all they
Can see is fur that shines, a mouth that smiles.
But I was death, and I was chased, some moons ago
When I was young. Forgive me for this dream –
I fear the hunter’s ire, but open land is what I crave
And know.