Animals absolutely have nouns and verbs. The studies we’re doing are showing their internal dialogue quite powerfully. Take the Border Collie “Betsy” (can’t link, Covid brain hurts from screens, but googling the animal name will get you to the articles): she can differentiate between a couple hundred objects, and she can be told “nose frisbee” or “paw frisbee”. She will then walk over to the object and either nose or paw it.
The parrot “Alex” displayed concepts like “same” and “different” while also showing a sense of nouns: He’d be shown seven blocks. Sometimes, all one colour but different shapes. Sometimes different materials. He’d be asked “What’s different?” and answer “Colour” or “Shape” or “Material”. And no, there were no tricks involved. Irene Pepperberg is a highly renowned biologist and her research was rigorously reviewed.
Animals also demonstrate the ability to understand and use grammar. I’ll check when I feel better, but I think Kanzi, the gorilla, was extremely obvious in this. Which it is necessary to be, because people will try their hardest to think of animals as automatic, reflex-driven fluffy minds. I want to know what that says about us.
Monkeys in the wild have different calls for different predators. The formerly mentioned “Alex” (his brain is walnut-sized) didn’t know the word for “apple”, so he made one up (“banerry”). A number of animals name their young with specific calls that don’t correspond to other vocalizations. I don’t think they’re passing down family names. But we are more alike than we are different, staying alive us difficult without effective communication, and our brains are remarkably similar under a microscope. It’s a difference of scale, that’s all.