Concerto No. 2

What do animals even hear when we play our music in their presence? Does it sound pleasant? Unpleasant? Like nothing, background noise? You could ask how they feel about it...but, as usual, they’re not talking. Our understanding of the relationship between domestic animals and conventional music is spotty at best and much more robust in the arena of agricultural production, but I can share the facts I’ve accumulated.
Surveying pet owners indicates that they very often perceive their pets’ music preference to parallel their own. Is that a legitimate example of canine music appreciation (“What a coincidence! We both love Elvis Costello!!”), or could it simply be that responses came directly from a biased observer who desires a shared experience with his pet? Perhaps it’s somewhere in between—certain artists or tracks bring about a relaxed mood in the owner, which in turn elicits a positive response from the pet. That, then, would be a type of training and not a measure of innate musical preference.
Pursuant to obtaining some unbiased scientific information, researchers exposed dairy cows to songs categorized as “slow and soothing” to see whether a measurable benefit could be observed. The slow music group produced 3% more milk than those listening to a faster, more energizing, tunes. Several studies have revealed an innate responsiveness to music in canines also; classical compositions seemed to calm the dogs initially (manifested as more minutes lying down), as did soft rock and reggae. In contrast, hard rock and metal types of music elicited more barking and agitated behaviors. These effects did not persist over time, which would explain why calming music isn’t too helpful for dogs with storm or sound phobias.
Cats, on the other hand, display zero interest in conventional music of any genre. Interestingly, they can be observed readily responding to pieces constructed especially for the feline ear (see our next piece for details). Dogs were tested against music composed after the same fashion (specifically tailored to their species), but they exhibited no interest. Perhaps that’s connected to the wide diversity in the canine voice, a quality influenced by various factors like lung capacity, larynx diameter, head size, and vocal fold tautness. The normal sounds produced by a teacup Chihuahua have virtually nothing in common with those produced by a Great Dane; possibly this suggests that “dog-centric” compositions might still hold a bit of potential if they were further tailored to the breed of the listener.
So do they perceive music in the same way we do? I don’t believe so. It’s been demonstrated that animals can be taught to recognize and respond to a sequence of tones (we might call this a “tune”), but lose interest immediately when it’s shifted up or down in pitch (i.e., same tune played in a different key). That makes me think they can not really recognize it as music but only as a sequence of sounds.
So back to the original question, could music be used to help veterinary patients? I believe it could be done, but the background information is a pretty confusing mess. Can we do better?

Yes...because you will take the reins, gentle reader.

Dr M.S. Regan