Thursday, October 9, 2008

Dogged Devotion











photo courtesy of Spencer Greet


October 9, 2008


I sit here at the computer with a living, hairy rug at my feet.

Our family dog, Joey, is what the Westminster Dog Show announcer calls "a companion animal". This means that Joey will follow family members into the bathroom if we don't stop him.

Joey is an Irish Water Spaniel. His breed is pretty rare in the U.S., and we had to drive to Virginia to get him. When we (meaning I) decided that the family needed a dog, I turned to the Internet to research breeds of dog that are less allergenic; these tend to be dogs with hair instead of fur. Irish Water Spaniels have curly, poodle-like hair that is soft to the touch.

I was attracted to the characteristic long knot of curls that can grow down from the top of his head, which combined with his long curly ears makes him look like a doggy version of King Charles II. I was a bit worried about the high spirits characteristic of this breed, but Joey has turned out to be a lovely addition to our family. My son Spencer frequently curls up around him much like another dog would probably do.

Of the many ways that people can be divided into two groups, one of those divisions is "dog people" versus "cat people". I suppose that I am a dog person for several reasons, not the least of which is that I am allergic to cats.

The reasons go much deeper than that, though. The more I get to know dogs as a species, the more I admire them.

For one thing, I have come to realize that within the limits of their abilities, dogs are terrific communicators. I read a study about a year ago that said that dogs are more obsessed with human behavior than any other species, even chimps. This is certainly true of Joey. He watches us constantly, seeking eye contact. If we don't look at him, he will dance around until we do: "Are you looking? Are you? Are you? Great, you're looking!" Or, he will sit at my side and stare, unblinking, until I finally turn to look.

Once he has obtained eye contact, he can communicate what he wants, with amazing effectiveness, if we just pay attention. His wants are pretty simple; food, water, affection, recreation, an opportunity to visit the outside toilet.

Pretty much the basic wants of humans, too, with the exception of the outside toilet part.


Research has shown that dogs are selective imitators, meaning that they can interpret and repeat behaviors based on observation and inference, like a human child. Sophisticated thinking for an animal that amuses itself by chasing its own tail.


Intellect and communication abilities notwithstanding, the qualities I most admire in dogs are twofold: the fact that they are completely present at all times, and their forgiving and nonjudgmental nature (of course, I am talking about cherished pets here, not mistreated or brutalized animals).


Dogs live totally in the now. A dog exhibits tremendous qualities of mindfulness - he is here, right now, with all of his being and senses. He is not worrying about what may happen or what did happen. He does not care what you did ten minutes ago, even though you yelled at him for scratching at the oriental carpet to "soften it up" before lying down on it. He forgives, does not judge, and moves on.


He will care for you when you are sick. This sounds ridiculous, except that when Norm has been suffering from one of his serious health scares, Joey would go over to him and lick his face all over for a sustained five minutes in a manner that Norm has called "giving me a treatment". Joey has never done this to anyone else. Recently in the news, a trained companion dog dialed 911 when his owner suffered a seizure.


There are those who say that people merely project human behaviors onto dogs; that they operate on an instinctive level, driven by Pavlovian conditioning and nothing else. I think that dogs condition us to be kinder, more compassionate, more forgiving, and more present; to borrow a phrase from Lincoln, they appeal to "the better angels of our nature".

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