If I Could Talk to Animals
We all dream of having superpowers. Some want to fly like a bird, some wish to become invisible, and others dream of reading people’s minds. But if I could choose one magical power, I would wish to talk to animals.
Imagine understanding what your dog is really saying when he barks, or what the birds mean when they sing. Even the cow that stares at you might have something to say!
Animals are everywhere around us, but we rarely understand them. They can’t speak our language, yet they feel just like we do — hungry, tired, scared, happy, or sad. If I could talk to them, I would make the world kinder — for animals and for humans too.
The first one I’d talk to would be my pet dog, Ace. He’s full of energy, always running, barking, and wagging his tail. Sometimes he stares at me as if he’s trying hard to say something. I often wonder, “What do you want to tell me, Ace?”
If I had that power, maybe I’d finally hear his voice. Perhaps he’d say, “I love you!” or “Why do you go to school and leave me alone all day?” He might even grumble, “Please stop giving me those dry biscuits. I want chicken curry!”
We would sit together and talk for hours. I’d tell him about my school, my friends, and my dreams. He would tell me about the butterflies he chases, the dreams he has when he sleeps, and what the neighbour’s cat really thinks of him!
After that, I’d talk to the street dogs near my school. They always look so alert. I’d ask them, “Do you feel safe here?” Maybe they’d reply, “We like being free, but we get scared when people throw stones.”
I’d speak to cows, goats, and crows too. They all see the world in ways we don’t. Through them, I’d learn about nature — about patience, teamwork, strength, and survival. A dog would teach me loyalty, an ant hard work, a bee teamwork, and a bird the joy of freedom.
But not all talks would be cheerful. Some animals might ask for help — a bird with a broken wing, a kitten who lost its mother, or a turtle stuck in plastic. I’d listen, care for them, and try to heal their pain.
I’d also talk to birds high in the sky. I’d ask, “What do you see from up there?” Maybe they’d tell me stories of rivers, mountains, forests, and cities. And if I could dive deep into the sea, I’d talk to fish. A fish might whisper, “We’re scared of the plastic floating around us.” A turtle might sigh, “Humans throw so much waste; it’s hard to swim.”
That’s when I’d realise — animals are not just creatures that walk, fly, or swim. They are teachers. They teach us courage, patience, kindness, and balance without saying a single word.
If I could talk to animals, I’d try to build peace between them and humans. I’d tell them, “Not all humans are bad. Some of us truly care for you.” And I’d tell people what animals feel — their fears, their hopes, and their silent trust.
My dream would be to create a world where no bird is caged, no dog is beaten, and no fish is choked by plastic. A world where animals and humans live as friends, not strangers.
Even though I don’t have this superpower yet, I can still listen with my heart. A gentle touch, kind eyes, or a warm smile can say more than words ever can.
Until the day I can really talk to animals, I will be their listener, their helper, and their friend.
Because even if I cannot speak their language — I can still understand their love.
