I find my Dear Henry's mind endlessly fascinating. (pardon any anthropomorphizing)
There are times I get what I perceive to be the "dull stares" from him - even when I attempt to elicit response with all sorts of strange sounds/stimuli. I'll admit, sometimes I think, "You, sir, are vacant." Usually my Terriers are head tilt and visibly processing everything. Henry doesn't show his cognition. Nope nothing. Or, perhaps it's boredom? (Perhaps I'm boring sometimes? LOL)
He's also quite subdued about expressing affection. Except in the morning when morning he needs hugs and to rest his paws and head on my shoulder (something he did the first day I met him). He demands this even before he eats or goes out. It's his ritual. This is when he wags his tail. Otherwise, that tail doesn't see much action. I know from our morning sessions that I'm a good one in his mind, but....I'm used to a bit more overt affection. Most of my Smooths have had non-stop tails. (I noticed the Smooth boy at Crufts this year was just overflowing with, "oh, I wanna meet ya!" vibes with the judge).
Henry has no issues, however, expressing displeasure. Every evening around 9:30pm, when I have told him no more outside time, he goes off to his bed--by his own choice--and literally throws himself down, growls, flails, sometimes yips, digs, and generally throws a royal temper tantrum. I can be in a different room while this goes on, and it lasts anywhere from 60 seconds to a few minutes. After this, he's lights out. As if he's frustrated with me, the world, his bed, himself, SLEEP getting in the way of FUN.
^ A daytime depiction of late tantrum mode ^
His means of communicating with me has an escalation path of objects/areas too. I should pay more attention, but I'm a doer, always doing. Yesterday, I was trying to process some paperwork, and I did not listen to his call for action. He was in the family room (where his water dish is), and I was in the dining room. I assumed the barks were him wanting to go out and hunt bunnies, so I ignored him. He and the barking moved into the kitchen (nearer me). And then he proceeded to stare up at the counter and raise the volume on his barking. I turned around and he looked at me, very frustrated, and looked up. I was baffled. There was NOTHING on the counter. No food. No treats. He pounded the floor a bit with his front paws, rose on his hind legs, and barked AT THE FAUCET! Duh! Poor boy had an empty water bowl. My prior dogs would knock the bowl around (or bring it to me and throw it down with a harumph). Dear Henry was like, "Let me go to the source to communicate with this fool woman to turn that faucet on and get me some water!"
He must have more patience for me, his dull peasant, than I realized.
(eep...vaccum bit the dust and waiting on delivery of the next Shark).