Issue #14: Winter/Spring 2006

The Dog Story

By Scott Yates

Although I have enjoyed the company of dogs in the past, I do not have one currently. A divorce a decade ago cut what leash there was to my last dog, a sloppy, lackadaisical Golden Retriever. I do not miss him.

Stanley Coren would say that’s because the dog, Sailor, and I did not have a good fit. Coren, an experimental neuropsychologist at UBC, is better known to people outside his specialty of human sensory processing as the guy who writes books about dogs. Actually, they’re about more than dogs. They’re explanations of the remarkable interconnectedness of two species.

“My real interest is not just the dogs, but the human/animal relationship. That is what tickles my curiosity,” Coren says from the farm he shares in the Fraser Valley with his wife and two dogs.

Coren won election to the Royal Society of Canada on the basis of his research into the nature of left-handedness and the affects of birth stress and sleep on human health and behaviour. But with training in both animal and human psychology he is among a very few scientists with the background to analyze relationships between people and their dogs.

“Most of my colleagues train in one or the other. I’m fortunate. I’m dual trained. That gives me a bit of an edge and also, obviously flavours my interest,” he says.

Coren comes by his passion honestly. He loves dogs, particularly the friendly ones he describes as “kissy face.” I would describe them otherwise, not able to imagine being licked on the face and lips by an animal that finds rolling in (and occasionally eating) poop an olfactory and epicurean delight. In one of his books Coren explained the licking of dogs as a way of expressing a desire for food. But he also says it’s an indication of who’s running the show.

“I’m willing to accept that,” he says. “For people who don’t like that behaviour, there’s a Scotty (Scottish terrier) or Westy (West Highland white terrier). They say, ‘Pet me twice a day, I’ve got work to do.’”

In my dog days I had animals that gave me real pleasure and their passing brought genuine grief. I’ve also had dogs that lasted less than three months in my house. I didn’t know it at the time, but that makes me part of a statistic about how long it takes the average dog owner to get an animal that fits.

One of the dogs that drove me crazy was a Brittany Spaniel pup (with papers) and the only dog I paid three figures for. In the child-centred home of a newborn and a three-year-old toddler, there wasn’t much time for the dog. Little Sparky made up for the lack of attention by chewing down small ornamental trees in the backyard. I gave her to an older couple.

The other dog that didn’t last was a Malamute mix, found lost in the woods. I gave Lucky away when, no longer content to sleep on top of the hot tub cover, he clawed through it. At the time, I thought these dogs were the problem. Coren makes me understand it’s really a relationship thing.

He has developed a list of 16 personality traits, (among them, shy, dominant, hard-hearted, tricky, unaggressive, cunning) to measure dog owners’ level of dominance, extroversion, trust and warmth. With the input of dozens of experts in dog related fields, meanwhile, he created a list of seven dog types including friendly, independent, protective, consistent, clever, steady and self-assured.

Some believe the perfect dog is an accident of nature, a fortuitous intersection of canine and human connectivity. Coren, on the other hand, says there are no accidents.

“God created man, but man created dog,” he says.

He contends we constantly change dogs to fit our lifestyles. At one end of the continuum are the kissy face canines Coren prefers. On the other are killer beasts that came out of blood sports favoured by the British in the early 1800s. Such contests are still popular, though not as public. Searching the internet under the phrase, “game bred,” reveals kennels specifically breeding vicious dogs. Pitbulls, a cross between bulldogs and terriers are the ultimate fighters. Some are so vicious, litters have to be taken from mothers at five weeks, lest she kill the pups.

“There, we have created monsters. But in 1835 there were others who wanted to create a classic fighting dog in the style of a proper companion for a British gentleman to take into the club,” Coren says. Bulldogs, fierce looking, sweet creatures, were the result. “We can deliberately manipulate dogs and it doesn’t take long. In 10 or 12 years you can completely change the breed.”

Now that cloning dogs has been perfected, you can also have a replica of beloved dog that has died. Coren laughs at the notion. “A lot of people expect a cloned dog to arrive with all the memories and behaviours of the old dog,” he says. “If you’ve got a zillion dollars, do it, but you’re not going to get the same dog, because a dog is as much a product of his experience as he is of his genes.”

I remember a few dogs fondly. Duchess, a mongrel mix that would chase rocks when I threw them, but would never give them up without a fight, Suzy, a German Shepherd that ran, romped and rolled with me through my early teens, Shanna, a happy terrier that learned to scale my body if I supported her neck with my hand, Mattie-Sue, a dog the vet gave me because I sniffled when another dog I’d found on the street had to be put down for cancer. These were dogs for which I felt a profound connection.

But what is that connection? Coren says we have created dogs that have a remarkable ability to understand and share our feelings. In other words, we have created dogs with empathy. That’s one of the most interesting aspects of Coren’s research and involves the sort of stories you might hear Alan Thicke narrating on the television program, Animal Miracles!

Consider the case of the Collie and the house fire. Asleep in the home’s recreation room, the dog could have exited the house via its dog door into the backyard at the first smell of smoke. Instead, the Collie ran through the fire, barking to alert family members. Regrouped outside, it was the dog, not the frazzled family that recognized one of the pack was missing. He ran back into the house barking. “That Collie had ample opportunity to go to safety and it didn’t. I certainly consider that heroic,” Coren says.

But they’re still animals, right? A four-legged relative of the wolf or hyena or dingo or perhaps all three. Fifteen thousand years ago there was a raison d’être for bringing dogs inside the circle. They’ve were hunters, guards, garbage collectors, herders, four legged labourers. Pampered pet is of recent vintage. It wasn’t too long ago that dogs were considered the poor person’s horse or mule. They hauled small wagons through London and New York, often used and abused by owners who could always obtain a replacement. The British Parliament began to put an end to that, successfully passing a bill in 1822 outlawing cruelty to animals.

As with so many things, the pampered pet part of doggie development started with royalty. Kings and queens, emperors and empresses all liked dogs, and several breeds today owe their progeny to specific reigns. Coren is quite keen on the Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, a dog bred by the 15th Century English king to emphasize a loving and gentle disposition.

Most dogs are bred to retain a puppy-like instinct called neoteny. It is why you’ll see an older dog cavorting like a youngster, but you’ll never see cows kicking up their heels, as you might their calves. With the intelligence of a two year old child, dogs can learn upwards of 110 words or signals. Cats, which are less trainable, are said to have the intelligence of about an 18 month old and a vocabulary of about two dozen commands.

But doesn’t speaking of dogs as having the equivalent intelligence of young children lead seamlessly into thinking of them as four-legged children? On a walk in a park, I see a couple pushing their miniature poodle in a baby carriage. Downtown, a woman carries her Chihuahuas in a harness designed after the ones used for newborns. A friend pays $8,000 to have the genetic defect in his dog’s legs repaired. A television commercial advertises Christmas gifts for dogs. Billions of dollars in North America are spent on dog related food and veterinary services. It bothers me.

Coren suggests I lighten up.

“The vast majority of people have a healthy relationship to dogs. Yes, you might buy your dog a present or include a package of treats under the Christmas tree, but I think for most individuals it does not take away from their ability to interact with others,” he says. Besides, data on the benefits of having a dog are well established, helping to lower blood pressure, among other things. And for children, having a dog in the family is even a predictor of more stable future relationships.

“The speculation is that you come home from a ratty day and your partner had a ratty day and if you demand affection, you’re going to get in a fight. But Lassie is there. You get your dose of affection, you don’t make demands. You don’t start a fight and the cumulative stress is released,” he says.

People who walk dogs know intuitively what researchers have measured. Strangers have a more positive response to a person who is accompanied by a dog. One recent report Coren quoted found that people were more likely to speak to handicapped individuals with a dog. Other research shows that simply photographing a person with a dog makes him or her more approachable. It would appear politicians have learned that lesson, although Coren pointed out, some of them are genuine dog lovers. Bill Clinton wasn’t. George W. Bush is.

“The President of the United States walks around carrying a Scottish Terrier. He can do anything he wants. He can have an aide carry it, (but) he comes from a family where dogs are important,” Coren says, adding that for people in power, a dog may be the only honest relationship they have. “They never betray you. They never sell their story to the National Inquirer.”

That’s the kind of loyalty that has sold humanity on dogs, linking us to them as much as them to us. During the flooding of Hurricane Katrina, one of several mistakes attributed to the Federal Emergency Management Agency, was its failure to take into consideration people’s pets. Leaving them behind was not an option and a large group refused to evacuate without their animals. In one instance, an enlisted soldier, following orders, took a Yorkshire Terrier from an elderly evacuee. A nearby officer gave the dog back, telling the soldier the dog was medicine. Medicine for the mind.

That’s how I’ve come to see humanity’s alliance with our four-legged friends. Coren has convinced me that in a society increasingly isolated from itself, dogs just make sense. I don’t have a dog now, but I’m pretty sure I will again. As much as I abhor the tendency of some people to go overboard in their affections, I understand better now why they do. Just as God is said to have created man in his image, we have created dog in ours revealing, in most cases, a reflection of the most honest, loyal and affectionate parts of ourselves. ¤

Scott Yates, MFA’86 is a reporter for Capital Press, and lives in Spokane, WA