“Man is the cruelest enemy of man.”
The above is a quote by Johann Gottlieb Fichte, one of the founders of the German Idealist School of philosophy (whose body of theories was inspired and influenced by the ethical and moral teachings of Immanuel Kant). A good friend who is a poet, colleague and kindred soul yesterday brought the reference to my attention in a conversation we were having at a local café, over late-harvested Zamboangan Mukratti tea and Polish Knovzepskiy muffins (not!).
As I was pondering the sad truth of Fichte’s observation today, it occurred to me that it stood incomplete as written, for it ought properly to have been rendered as follows: “Man is the cruelest enemy of man and the best friend of dogs.”
As I sit here, developing this thought, with fingers poised over the keyboard like five emaciated vultures ready to pounce on carrion, I glance reflectively up at one of my book shelves whereupon are perched three anatomically complete skulls. The first is that of an early-middle-aged Asian male (his name is ‘Yorick’, in case you’re wondering). The second that of a Siberian wolf and the third of a domestic dog…in this case a Siberian Husky dog.
The two canine skulls, arrayed side by side, are remarkably similar. The wolf’s snout is visibly somewhat more pointed, the teeth are extremely well-developed and it is also slightly larger than the husky’s. By contrast, the husky’s snout is somewhat less sharp, a bit more rounded and the teeth, while arrayed similarly to the wolf’s, are somewhat scaled down from the huge canines of the lupine relative. And yet, otherwise they are remarkably similar. So much so, in fact, that an uninformed person might mistake the husky skull for that of a small wolf (or perhaps of a juvenile wolf).
I keep those skulls on my shelf partly out of respect for the species each represents, but also as a reminder of the brevity of our earthly sojourn on this breathtakingly beautiful (if tragically abused) planet we all co-inhabit.
Beneath my desk, as I have often mentioned before, is the customary station of my female husky bitch (Nala), who has recently survived our other pack-mate’s demise (a wonderful male named Sooka, shown here a few days before his demise at a ripe old age). Both Nala and Sooka were rescues, having come to us through the Central California rescue group named NORSled (www.norsled.org/). We have taken Norsled huskies into our home for over 20+ years (last numbering a total of 7) and all of our past (now departed) pack-mates are still with us, sitting on a memorial shelf in the family room, where they invest our lives with a strong presence that remains well after their spirits departed for what other regions of the Universe may exist.
But I digress. This week, as I was at a local grocery store we frequent, a magazine caught my eye near the checkout counter (where the store places not-so-cleverly positioned last-minute ‘impulse items’). It was a special edition of the Scientific American (Fall 2018), a magazine that, although I am interested in scientific inquiry, I do not normally read. The special edition Fall was subtitled ‘The Science of Dogs and Cats’ and it turned out to be 112 pages of absolutely fascinating material on humanity’s two most favored domestic pets.
Several months ago, the Time/Life Publishing combine put out a similarly themed ‘grab-off-the-shelf magazine’ on dogs and cats, but it contained a far more generalized collection of information on these pets, most of it being of interest, but nothing covered to any great depth. The Scientific American counterpart, by contrast, turned out to be a noteworthy collection of material that explores some of the latest animal behavioral science researches being done today. Many of the findings highlighted in it were both illuminating and stimulating.
As many of you know, research studies on our most favored, closest animal companions have been going on for more than a hundred years now. Famed Austrian animal behaviorist Konrad Lorenz is one of the best known of these early researchers, with his prize-winning studies on the imprinting of birds (greylag geese and jackdaws). He was also an early investigator of wolves and their behavior, from which most modern studies of wolves derive and have benefitted substantially.
In recent years, a particularly intense scrutiny of the commonalities shared by wolves and certain domestic dog breeds (e.g. Huskies and their Spitz breed relatives) has revealed a whole new body of information (much of it genetic in nature) that was not attainable before the advent of modern genetic science’s radical breakthroughs permitted such new understandings.
It is now thought that wolves and domestic dogs diverged from each other’s path about 17,000 years or more ago (previously it was supposed to have been only 10,000 years). And despite the fact that on a direct visual level many of the more wolf-like appearing Spitz breeds share a startling (if superficial) resemblance to their ancient wolf ancestors (with the exception of a small number of domestic breeders that deliberately mate wolves and dogs), even Siberian Huskies and Alaskan malamutes , the two breeds that most resemble wolves in appearance (albeit in slightly smaller scale) are the product of distinctly separate developmental histories apart from their wolf ancestors.
But of course, it is those visual similarities that are one of the chief attractions of these two domestic dog breeds that I find so attractive, owing to a life-long interest in and admiration for wild wolves.
About 27 years ago, historical fantasy writer George R.R. Martin brought forth the first of his utterly captivating novels (by name and collectively, ‘A Song of Fire and Ice’). Over the past 27 years, this series expanded into five contiguous and lengthy novels and Martin is supposedly extending it to seven, each about a thousand pages long with a character complexity that almost defies comprehension. Martin, who is now 70 years of age, hopes to complete his seven-novel masterwork before his demise, but if he does, his achievement will likely outshine even that of J.R.R. Tolkien.
The public was introduced to Martin’s brilliant writings by virtue of Home Box Office’s decision to produce a television series based on the first of Martin’s five novels (titled ‘A Game of Thrones’). Starting off in 2011, HBO’s production, although greeted modestly at its onset by critics, soon gained an immense following throughout not just the US, but the world. It quickly captured the attention and obsessive devotion of many thousands of science-fiction and fantasy fans, but due to the fact that Martin focused his stories more on the dynamics of human behavior than on the fantasy-magic largely pioneered by other authors (including Tolkien and Rowling), that audience has since expanded by an additional order of magnitude.
Although I am known as the ‘master of digressions’ in my many discourses, my rational for bringing Martin into this blog installment (about dogs) lies in the fact that the wolf plays a substantial part in Martin’s fantasy writings. The house of one of Martin’s principal characters (Eddard Stark) has a wolf as its heraldic symbol. [That wolf is in fact a ‘Dire wolf’, which is an extinct, prehistoric ancestor of modern wolves; the last one is estimated to have died out about 9400 years ago. They are estimated to have been remarkably similar in appearance to present-day wolves, although only very slightly bigger.
In the HBO series the part of Direwolves were provided by Northern Inuit ‘cross-breed’ dogs, a canine strain quite similar to large Siberian Huskies]. Further developing the wolf’s relevance to Martin’s story-line is the fact that early on in ‘A Game of Thrones’ a dead Direwolf is found with its 6 newly-born pups. Each of the pups is taken by one of the Stark characters and socialized as a personal companion and protector (something that in the harsh light of reality would be virtually impossible for any number of hard, scientifically proven reasons…but it’s an appealing fantasy, at any rate, that we can all enthusiastically buy into).
Although the referenced Scientific American issue is equally devoted to both dogs and cats, and despite the fact that I appreciate cats almost as much as I do dogs, I turned most of my attention to the findings set forth therein on canines. Not surprisingly, there were some fascinating things to reflect upon.
Staying with the HBO Direwolf topic for a moment longer and speaking as a long-time husky rescue group person, ever since the HBO ‘A Game of Thrones’ series began, there has been a sharp up-spike in the number of purebred Siberian Huskies abandoned across the USA that end up in shelters. The phenomenon is nothing new, thanks to both feeble mentalities and the sudden popularization of certain things in entertainment media. Several previous movies (such as ‘101 Dalmations’) provoked a similar short-lived, nation-wide fad for that breed (which are also extremely challenging dogs to train & live with). Other movies about wolf-like dogs (‘Snow Dogs’ is the best example, but so is ‘8 Below’) have further encouraged this phenomenon.
Many rather superficially aware people developed a fascination for wolves, despite having absolutely sh*t-all knowledge of them, and after seeing the HBO series many went out and on impulse purchased pure-bred Siberian Husky dogs (duh!..they look like wolves, don’t they?). Predictably, as soon as they discovered that huskies are a very high maintenance breed, requiring expert owners who have taken pains to understand the breed’s needs and are prepared to deal with them, these dogs often wound up either neglected (due to difficulty training them…they are notoriously stubborn) or outright abandoned.
It is reported that principal ‘A Game of Thrones’ actor Peter Dinklage (the character of ‘Tyrion Lannister’) cooperated with PETA to urge the series fans not to buy huskies unless they were fully prepared to deal with the breed’s many particular requirements. How successful that gesture was remains in doubt, although it certainly was commendable.
One notable aspect of the recent Scientific American ‘Special Edition’ on dogs and cats is that it helps dispel many of the popular preconceived notions about canine and feline behavior. Behavioral patterns of these domestic pets are just barely being looked into, thanks to a number of new studies that have carried on where Lorenz, Pavlov and others involved with past animal behavioral researches left off.
For example, most people feel that dogs demonstrate ‘guilt’ over having transgressed their owner’s household rules. This was amusingly demonstrated in the ‘dog-shaming’ memes that were quite popular on the internet a year or so ago (in which dogs with a guilty look were photographed with signs describing their lapses in good behavior, saying things like ‘I ate my owner’s shoe’, etc.). According to several studies cited in this SA issue, that look of guilt is not reflective of guilt at all. It is rather an expression of anxiety resulting from the dog’s perception that its owner is angry or agitated, prompting the dog’s fear of punishment (for whatever reason, since most often there is no association whatsoever in the dog’s mind with a possible breech of the house rules).
As for love and the bonding attachment that many owners develop with their animals, studies of cortisol (a stress-related corticosteroid hormone) and oxytocin (a peptide and neuropeptide produced in the hypothalamus) levels in canine test subjects appear to indicate that this is a very real and substantial manifestation of close interactions between a dog and its owner. This attachment process is quite similar to that noted between mothers and their infants and is clearly reflected in levels of various hormones and chemical secretions associated with love and intense emotions.
It was determined, furthermore and according to several studies, that dog owners that physically demonstrate (e.g. who ‘kiss their dogs’ or otherwise physically demonstrate their affection for the animal) experience a sharp increase in oxytocin levels. This release promotes many related beneficial systemic chemical reactions in a person that can lower blood pressure and promote relaxation (among other things). I know that the simple act of stroking the thick, double-coated fur of my huskies yields great pleasure; it’s the best psychological therapy I can think of when I find myself irritated and/or perplexed by life’s daily superficialities and aggravations.
It has been brought out that one reason why dogs in particular have become such a vital part of our lives is that over the last 17 thousand years or so they have become amazingly adept at adjusting themselves to human life…a way of living (human habits) that is, after all, utterly alien to their entire collection of instincts and natural urges. That is to say, dogs have evolved the ability to be exceptionally empathetic, capable of expertly sensing and responding to our human moods and feelings, even to the point of ‘feeling’ sadness and personal sorrow in humans. In this aspect of doggish characteristics, they far exceed any similar capability in cats.
Another study, using MRI (Magnetic Resonance Imaging) techniques provided clear evidence that dogs ace out many other animals in terms of their inherent quotient of cortical neurons. The brain’s cortex has an outer layer of highly specialized cells that are responsible for solving problems, gauging and stimulating emotional reactivity and performing a rather complex number of high-level analyses. The point is made, however, and scientifically supported that sheer brain mass does not equate with superior intellectual function; what makes all the difference is the number of cortical neurons a brain’s cerebral cortex possesses.
Human beings are estimated to have somewhere on the order of 16.34 billion cortical neurons, which yields a cortical density of about 13.3 million neurons per gram. This is what makes Homo sapiens clearly the highest evolved sentient life form (even though we humans persist in perpetually screwing things up, due to the ascendance of emotions over intellect).
Dogs, comparably assayed, possess on the order of 429 million cortical neurons, a figure that yields a cerebral cortex density of about 9.3 million per gram. Compare this with the average cat’s 250 million cortical neurons (corresponding to a cerebral cortex density of about 10.3 million per gram). What this tells us is that dogs have the potential for cognitively greater capability than cats, although a simple measurement of these values does not guarantee that one may regard dogs as somehow ‘smarter’ than cats. Cognitive ability is a far more complex matter than just measurement of cortical neurons. There is also additional evidence that suggests that dogs have an slight edge over cats in that their memories retain information longer than do cats.
[It is interesting to note that some of these studies suggest that the ordinary raccoon, with its estimated 438 million cortical neurons (density of about 17.9 million per gram) is appreciably smarter than the average cat and anyone who has watched some of their amusing attempts to open sealed garage containers would have to allow for this assumption! Perhaps we should keep raccoons instead of cats?]
Another very interesting section of this special issue of SA cites the rather remarkable work done in Russia, starting in the 1950s, towards speeding up the so-called domestication process in selected types of non-domestic animals. Specific to this body of research has been the work of one Lyudmila Trut, an evolutionary geneticist at the Institute of Cytology and Genetics, located in Novosibirsk, Russia. Since 1959, she and her colleagues devised and conducted domestication programs intended to speed up selective breeding of Russian wild foxes (sorry men, we’re not talking about hot Russian women, here) in which certain genetic traits and characteristics have been deliberately ‘forced’ into a much-condensed breeding cycle aimed at domesticating wild foxes. After initial researches indicated that domestication was primarily a genetic adaptation, a select number of these wild foxes were selected for traits favorable to developing offspring that would lend themselves to domestic compatibility with humans.
Among the traits identified as desirable (in wild foxes) were a tendency to remain calm when around unknown humans. In this study (that has been ongoing through 43 fox generations by now!), certain characteristics began to appear among the successive fox generations that were clearly positive indicators of evolving domestication. Some of these traits included a certain ‘blunting’ (more rounded) of the fox’s snout, a curling of tails, and a variegated coloration (mottled) in their coats (traits also manifest in many breeds of dogs that are physical evidence of high levels of domestication). In so many words, the foxes were becoming more ‘dog-like’, including a pronounced and very obvious pleasure in human company and human expressions of affection (like enjoying belly-rubs and snuggling).
What Lyudmila and her colleagues have succeeded in doing is speeding up the same genetic domestication that in dogs has spanned many hundreds of decades, compressing the process into a mere 59 or so years! The program began, as mentioned earlier, only a few years after Russia began its famous space researches involving dogs and it should be noted that Russia has a long tradition of using canines in scientific inquiries since at least Pavlov’s time (around the early 1900s).
Still other recent determinations help dispel the notion that there is some sort of absolute standard of comparative intelligence among groups of dogs (and their respective breeds). It really isn’t quite that simple. So when you hear someone refer to a particular dog as ‘smart’ or ‘dumb’ it’s prudent to take that armchair-expert’s opinion with a healthy degree of skepticism.
As SA studies suggest, there are many different types of intelligence noted in dogs, just as there are in human beings. In humans, IQ alone is merely one kind of intelligence and it is generally acknowledged that in humans alone there are at least 8 different categories of ‘intelligence’ (e.g. social, cultural, intellectual, motor-skills, sensory, etc.). So too, dogs differ in their particular skill sets, many having originated in the wild several thousand or more years ago when they were undomesticated. Certain breeds in fact have specific types of applied intelligence that relate to their breeding (i.e. hunting dogs, working dogs, therapy dogs, scent & sight hounds, etc.). Thus, when a friend tells me that his Siberian Husky (or Poodle, etc.) is extremely intelligent, I immediately understand that the person I’m talking to is resorting to a popular generality that is somewhat off the mark in terms of its validity.
Much of that which is described by non-specialists as ‘intelligence’ is actually an aggregate of sensory collecting and processing adeptness, an asset that dogs appear to excel at. The ability to infer meaning and intent from non-verbal cues in dogs is notable for the fact that we are just now beginning to understand how these capabilities come together in a dog to convey the impression of intelligence to us. Dogs are excellent at observing behavior, both visually and chemically (through the sense of smell, principally), but they appear to also have a sort of natural empathetic sensitivity that helps them interpret all that raw information and provoke a response in them that we misunderstandingly ascribe to ’intelligent behavior’.
An amusing example from my own experience with Nala (my 8-year-old Siberian bitch) involves yawning. We’ve all experienced the contagious nature of a human yawn, but I decided to see if I could somehow ‘train her’ to mimic my own exaggerated yawning. Over a period of time, while maintaining close proximity during inactive moments, I would yawn expressively in her presence. After several weeks, she seems to have ‘caught on’ to the habit and now whenever I yawn, she also yawns…more often than not. It’s a curious thing, actually, in that whenever she yawns it also has a relaxing effect on me to the point where I’ve caught myself yawning from her cue! [Leads the question: Who is training whom, here?] Regardless of the questionable validity of my method, it is clear that we are just opening up certain avenues of behavioral study of dogs that heretofore have been far too little understood.
Gareth Cook tells us about one study with dogs that suggests that the preponderant percentage of canines prefer to spend time with people than with their own kind, something that is most exceptional for an animal. Of course, this certainly isn’t true with wild animals such as wolves, with their tightly organized communal (pack) behaviors and highly social interactions. This is one of the most endearing aspects of canine behavior that have helped make dogs our most valued companions in life.
Very recently, while I was traveling through Oregon along its southern coastal regions, I stopped at a local store that had a number of clever dog-oriented gifts for sale. Among them was a selections of the ubiquitous ‘bumper stickers’, except that these were large magnetized versions that do not stick permanently to your bumper. There were several that stood out and one that I finally weakened and purchased stated ‘I love dogs…it’s people I can’t stand’.
I had intended to put that on my light truck, but after a bit of thought decided against this. It is certainly true, but it’s also a bit too misanthropic for me, given the necessity of coexisting with my fellow opposed-thumb bipeds. At any rate, it started me thinking about the truth of that observation.
Dogs actually are better friends than most people, since they do not betray confidences, reveal embarrassments, manifest fickle attitudes while in the company of their humans or engage in any of the dozens of quirks human beings are given to.
This is one prominent reason why so many people have dogs as pets and companions, of course. And in that single trait, they are more valued than gold.
Another bumper sticker at this store said “Dogs welcomed, people tolerated.” Again, a further sad but largely factual pronouncement of truth. I personally am forced to tolerate all the brainlessness of my fellow beings encountered in my daily life (as we all are), but with dogs there’s absolutely no degree of trust and love under constant examination. With dogs, unlike with humans, you get exactly what you see. Dogs’ incredible ability to ‘read’ us, interpret our moods, gestures and even sense our unspoken feelings have made them an indispensable part of our daily lives.
Cats certainly have their own appeal, but it involves an entirely different set of interactions and associations. Some of the SA studies mentioned appear to confirm a few common popular assumptions about dogs and cats and one that is very common is that cats are far more cautiously qualificative and measured in their interactions with people. That seems to be true enough; ‘cat people’, interestingly, have been found to generally be a bit less assertive, more reflective (as a rule), a bit more constrained and insular and have a higher need for personal space & privacy, whereas dog people have been found to be more gregarious, outgoing, and generally quite accepting of others.
Of course, those of us who have had both cats and dogs know full well that cats interact with people on their own rather hidden, perhaps more discerning terms, unlike dogs. It has been shown in the lab that if a dog is frustrated by a posed problem, it will continue to attempt to arrive at a successful resolution of that problem. A cat, on the other hand, will perhaps make a few cursory tries, but then, without any success apparently forthcoming, will give the task up entirely and simply walk away.
Surprisingly, dog owners as a large group, have been found to correlate more associated with a lack of a college degree, whereas cat owners tend as a group to be mostly college educated.
One of the most interesting findings cited by researchers studying human/dog attachment (‘love’ for lack of a better word) was that despite a human being’s love for their pet, that feeling is not reciprocated in the same way we do and to the same extent that would be expected by us. ‘Love’ is, after all, a proprietary human quality and human beings are all too quick to anthropomorphise and project human feelings and emotions onto their dogs.
To the contrary, research studies seem to collectively suggest that dogs don’t feel love as we experience and think of it; rather they merely find us pleasingly ‘convenient’ to be around, as a sort of very cooperative ‘partner’ in life. We see this projection of human emotionalism onto animals in the cinematic role accorded them in many motion pictures (the list is endless), wherein love, loyalty and regard all are made to be an inherent aspect of the basic dog’s nature.
Not so, say the studies! ‘Rin-Tin-Tin’, Lassie and all those other canine TV and movie stars of bygone years were all probably not going for help out of regard for the master’s safety as much as they were thinking about where the next treat was coming from! And if keeping the treats coming regularly meant keeping the human ‘master’ alive, that’s probably what it was all about. Shucks! So much for all my childish aspirations.
There’s one heck of a lot more information in this particular issue of the Fall 2008 Scientific American about dogs (and cats) than I have alluded to here, but the message is clear enough that we have just begun to scratch the surface when it comes to fully and confidently understanding ‘dog-nature’ and/or ‘dognition’ (as canine cognition is sometimes called). I would strongly suggest that anyone with a dearly loved dog or cat go to your local store and grab a copy of this very informative and revealing issue of SA today, while it is still available.
Unfortunately, as I’ve said so many times before, dogs are not trivial amusements that we can or should take lightly (as they frequently are by less intelligent, less thoughtful individuals). Both as living creatures and as the charming, loyal and engaging companions they are, we owe them the very best care, love and attention we can provide. To that end, it causes me great personal pain whenever I encounter a case of animal cruelty or an instance in which a pet is callously abused, neglected and/or poorly treated by some clueless cretin.
The act of fostering new life, whether that of creating human children or the assumption of 'pet parenting', implies an iron-clad burden of responsibility...somewhat like the ancient belief that saving a person's life imposes responsibility for that person's welfare forever after. Sadly, in our modern world, this responsibility is all too often shrugged off completely...a cirumstance that results in millions of abandoned childen AND domestic pets each year.
I firmly believe that dog ownership (and perhaps cat ownership as well) should be stringently regulated so as to insure that every pet has a happy, well cared-for life. If that means preventing certain people from having dogs, I’m all for it. Unfortunately, one of the sad things about a so-called democracy is that we often cannot regulate such matters. We are constrained to wait until a gross breech of human decency occurs before we can take corrective action and even then, justice is seldom completely done.
As for myself, I’ve often said before, I simply cannot imagine a meaningful life without the company of my wonderful Siberian dogs. I fervently hope you all feel similarly towards your own four-pawed friend!
Famed 50s cartoonist Walt Kelly was correct when he had his character Pogo Possum (another famous, if fictional philosopher) utter the phrase “We have met the enemy and he is US!”. It is also likely correct to say “We have in dog the best friend anyone could possibly hope for!”
Towards that end, please, God, let me be the person my dog thinks I am! Woof!
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Postscript: Of possible interest to those who find the above post of worth, you may also find Mark Derr's book 'How the Dog Became the Dog' worthy of a read.
In this 300 page study of how Canus familiaris (the domestic dog) evolved from Canus lupus (the Gray Wolf), Derr covers much ground. A certain amount of the material is presented in the manner of an academician who is addressing a lay audience, so fear not that it is too complicated in the scope and nature of its subject. In this book he assumes the approach of a knowledgable generalist and as such it is highly readable.
One small, almost niggling criticism I have with Derr is that, in his references to Russian geneticist Lyudmila Trut's 59 year researches with wild Silver Foxes, he takes a slightly 'poo-pooish' stance, criticising some of the assumptions her team have made about the validity of their domesticisation model. He mentions 'healthy academic criticism' by peers as a necessary aspect of the modern research arena, but I get the feeling he is too quick to be critical of some of Trut's assumptions. That shared, read the book and judge for yourselves
Another excellent book for those who (like myself) have had a lifelong love of wolves and their direct canine descendents) is titled 'The Wolf Man of Kane, Pennsylvania' (Nancy A. Avolese). Spoiler note: We're not talking about a werewolf here (despite the fact that it's Halloween). Avolese's novel concerns itself with medical Dr. Edward H. McCleery (1867 to 1962) who almost single-handedly managed to save the Lobo Wolf (Canus lupus nubilus) from extinction (and who also succeeded in bonding with several generations of their successors) at a time when wolves were still regarded by the average person as a sort of fearsome predatory threat to mankind.
A third book I've recently enjoyed is a wonderful story about a friendly wild wolf in suburban Juneau, AK, that suddenly 'befriended' both dogs and humans. It is a true story, written with a poignant insight into this mysterious bond that we call 'attachment'. The title of this book is 'A Wolf Called Romeo' (by Nick Jans).
These are just three of the many books available on the fascinating subject of humanity's many thousand year relationship with dogs (and their wolfish ancestors). I highly recommend all of them.
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