ABSTRACT
When Gypsy lies on her mat in the kitchen, her head resting on her crossed paws, looking vacantly into the middle distance, and we are at the table, eating or just talking after the meal, I sometimes wonder what goes on inside her head. Is she think ing anything? I imagine there is hardly anyone whose dog has become part of the family, living inside the house, who has not asked that ques tion. It seems irres ist ible, which is strange, because I’m quite sure she doesn’t think anything. Why then do I-why do so many people-ask that ques tion? Because, I think, we are struck every so often by the mystery of animals, their other ness to us and to our lives. A long history of philo soph ical and scientific reflec tion has made it seem natural to express that mystery as being about animal conscious ness. It’s natural, but I believe it’s mistaken.
