Git dahn!

Let's say you're a dog owner new to the Pittsburgh area and you know a dog owner who is a native. Try this experiment: See if you can detect a difference in accents. Not between you humanoids; no challenge there. I mean the dogs.

Make it a double-blind study -- you two owners put on blindfolds while the dogs chat. If you hear a dog breathing rapidly as in, "Haah-uh-haah-uh-haah-uh-haah," it's the one from Pittsburgh, the "haah" being the canine equivalent of the Yinzbonics word for house -- spelled "haas" or "haus." If you hear a slow growl, "Howwwww, howwwwwww," the dog is from a generic, colorless part of America that pronounces "house" -- get this -- as "house." Similarly, the dog going, "Woof, woof" is the yinzer, as opposed to the one crying, "Wolf, wolf."

If you think I'm jagging you, guess again. British dog owners were asked to leave recorded messages of their voice and their dogs'. The sounds were compared by British dog experts, The Mirror of London says. Conclusion: Dogs have regional accents just like their owners.

If you try this experiment, report the results to The Morning File.

But maybe he already is a dog

From the AP
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This just in: Dogs are not only man's best friend, but woman's, too. This is bad news for men, and not simply because they must share their dogs with women from now on. According to an American Kennel Club survey of 1,000 Americans -- 500 dog owners and 500 non-dog owners, 34 percent of the women dog owners endorsed the statement: "If my dog was a man, he'd be my boyfriend." We know this from Sandy Robins of MSNBC.

So what doggy traits induce longing in lonely women? A perennial good mood, a willingness to spend time together and cuddle on the couch. Dogs like exercise, rarely complain about what's for dinner, don't talk back. Also, you don't have to worry about their emotions or what they are thinking. Men, on the other hand, admire dogs as significant others, because they rarely go shopping.

This is all very impressive and enough to make me, as a man, examine my own behavior. Still, I question whether a dog can explain the West Coast offense.

Dogs as babe-magnets

More from the AKC poll: When it comes to meeting women, 58 percent of men said a puppy is a foolproof ice-breaker. Robert Yau is founder of Datemypet.com, an online pet dating service that does not promote dating among pets but matches people with pets so they can get dates. He says the nation has about 40 million single pet owners.

"When it comes to selecting profiles on the Internet, women and men seem to make certain judgments base on the dog's physical appearance and behavior," says Yau. "A people-friendly dog typically comes from a friendly environment. While an aggressive dog can be a direct reflection of its owner."

Question: What would it take for you to date the owner of the dog in the photo?

Unchain my vice president

Stephen Hunter of The Washington Post on a vice president in the news:

"Some may say of Cheney: He was really unlucky. I say: He was really lucky.

"He was lucky to be so superb a wing shot that he carried a shotgun in 28-gauge rather than 12-gauge. That probably saved Harry Whittington's life. The 28 is for advanced bird hunters who've killed their thousands with a 12 -- the common hunting shell of America's shotgunners -- and want something more refined, lighter, more beautiful. With the 28 you have to get closer, shoot faster and more accurately. The little pieces of shot break their cluster sooner, spray more widely.

"Nevertheless, it shouldn't have happened; the bottom line is that the vice president should not have whirled, tracked a flying bird and fired. I speak as a man who has violated that principle himself and almost paid for it in grief and shame. My almost kill wasn't a lawyer, it was a dog. (No jokes, please!) . . .

"The bird broke low and straight, about 25 yards out, and I was on it. Even as I felt all the right things happening I was aware that something was blinking ABORT MISSION in the bottom left of the sight picture, even if my conscious mind had not yet intercepted it. Too late: I fired, busted the bird in that satisfying cloud of feathers and wreckage, as it instantly loses its aerodynamicism and becomes just weight in air.

"The next thing I saw was the dog. He had been out there, beyond the line. My subconscious knew he was there; my conscious, the dumb part of me, never got the message. The dog was fine. The dog didn't know that if I had fired a tenth of a second later, he would've had a nasty encounter with 200 No. 8 pellets. But my friends and the guide knew what had happened: hubris, arrogance, self-love, narcissism, all the truly destructive male pathologies. The point of hunting is to control them: I had not. You can't get those moments back. You can only learn from them. If you don't, then you're even stupider."