They can even coin new terms for things they've never seen
before, independently coming up with the same calls or words,
according to Con Slobodchikoff, a Northern Arizona University
biology professor and prairie dog linguist.
Prairie dogs of the Gunnison's species, which Slobodchikoff has
studied, speak different dialects in Grants and Taos, N.M.;
Flagstaff, Ariz.; and Monarch Pass, Colo., but they would likely
understand one another, the professor says.
"So far, I think we are showing the most sophisticated
communication system that anyone has shown in animals,"
Slobodchikoff said.
Slobodchikoff has spent the last two decades studying prairie
dogs and their calls, mostly in Arizona, but also in New Mexico and
Colorado.
Prairie dog chatter is variously described by observers as a
series of yips, high-pitched barks or eeks. And most scientists
think prairie dogs simply make sounds that reflect their inner
condition. That means all they're saying are things like "ouch" or
"hungry" or "eek."
But Slobodchikoff believes prairie dogs are communicating
detailed information to one another about what animals are showing
up in their colonies, and maybe even gossiping.
Linguists have set five criteria that must be met for something
to qualify as language: It must contain words with abstract
meanings; possess syntax in which the order of words is part of
their meaning; have the ability to coin new words; be composed of
smaller elements; and use words separated in space and time from
what they represent.
"I've been chipping away at all of these," Slobodchikoff said.
He and his students have done work in the field and in a
laboratory. With digital recorders, they record the calls prairie
dogs make as they see different people, dogs of different sizes and
with different coat colors, hawks, elk. They analyze the sounds
using a computer that dissects the underlying structure and creates
a sonogram, or visual representation of the sound. Computer analysis
later identifies the similarities and differences.
The prairie dogs have calls for various predators but also for
elk, deer, antelope and cows.
"It's as if they're trying to inform one another what's out
there," Slobodchikoff said.
So far, he has recorded at least 20 different "words."
Some of those words or calls were created by the prairie dogs
when they saw something for the first time. Four prairie dogs in
Slobodchikoff's lab were shown a great-horned owl and European
ferret, two animals they had likely not seen before, if only because
the owls are mostly nocturnal and this kind of ferret is foreign.
The prairie dogs independently came up with the same new calls.
In the field, black plywood cutouts showing the silhouette of a
coyote, a skunk and an oval shape were randomly run along a wire
through the prairie dog colony.
"There are no black ovals running around out there and yet they
all had the same word for black oval," Slobodchikoff said.
He guesses the prairie dogs are genetically programmed with some
vocabulary and the ability to describe things.
Slobodchikoff has also played back a recorded prairie dog alarm
call for coyote in a prairie dog colony when no coyote was around.
The prairie dogs had the same escape response as they did when the
predator was really there.
"There's no coyote present, but the prairie dogs hear this and
they say, 'Oh, coyote. Better hide,'" Slobodchikoff said.
Computer analysis has been able to break down some prairie dog
calls into different components, suggesting the critters have yet
another element of a real language.
"We're chipping away with this at the idea that animals don't
have language," Slobodchikoff said.
