Like many of you, I consider myself a dog person. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a dog lover and I’ve always made canine friends quickly. There’s something about every dog that I find really wonderful. But when it comes to my own two dogs, there is only one word that describes how I feel: love.
‘Jazz’ came into my life as a puppy and I was smitten before she even arrived. The breeder delighted me with stories about Jazz’s earliest days, and sent me photos that I kept on the fridge. And the moment I finally met Jazz, now almost 12 years ago, I felt something powerful and new to me. Was it love at first sight? I don’t know about that. But I do know that I looked at her and held her in my arms and knew that I would care for her and protect her at all costs.
‘Ocho’ came next, entering my life through breed rescue. Someone had left him on the streets of Chicago when he was five months old. Their act of cruelty and neglect gave me one of the greatest gifts of my life. The moment I saw him – happily yodelling and bouncing around a friend’s kitchen, in spite of his emaciated state – I knew he just might become a great love. He did.
My dogs are my family, and in every sense of the word I love them. But do Jazz and Ocho return the favour? Are any dogs capable of loving us?
I have plenty of anecdotal evidence to suggest that my two adore me in return. But do they? Or is that merely what I want or need to believe?
In search of an answer, I went to renowned canine behaviour expert Jean Donaldson and asked if dogs can possess the emotional intelligence required to feel love. “Dogs are mammals and have the big emotions on-line: fear, love, anger and all the shades of those,” she explained. “I do believe they can love in every meaningful sense of that word.”
But what about the skeptics who argue that dogs don’t love us, they merely work us in exchange for getting what they want, i.e., treats, affection, etc. Isn’t that look of adoration or cuddly, affectionate behaviour perhaps just a means to an end for a dog? “I take great exception to this,” she replied. “Dogs would discontinue doing whatever we ask them if we cease all rewards and punishments, but behaviour modification/control of behaviour is a pretty impoverished view of what love is.”
My curiousity piqued, I wanted more information – proof, frankly. Jean recommended some resources on the subject of animal emotions (see side-bar for a list of books) and I began reading. What I found was fascinating.
When you read the works of Marc Hauser, Marc Bekoff, Jane Goodall and others, you quickly realize that this subject is complicated – and controversial. Goodall, in particular, speaks of the reluctance of those in both the scientific and lay communities to accept research studies that lead to the conclusion that animals have highly complex minds and are capable of many emotions, including fear, grief, love and hate.
If there is research to support the notion that dogs can love us, why are some unwilling or afraid to acknowledge this as a potential reality?
One of the complexities of this debate is that by suggesting dogs are capable of love, we’re engaging in anthropomorphism – the practice of attributing human characteristics to non-human animals. There is a stigma associated with anthropomorphism, to some extent for good reason. We see, for example, the problem of treating dogs like little people – failing to give them the social stimuli they need and placing unrealistic expectations on them. I can’t count the number of times I’ve seen people reprimanding dogs for “misbehaving” when, more often than not, the handler is not only failing to give simple commands but speaking in random, complete sentences that are presumably undecipherable to the dog.
There will always be a danger when we apply human characteristics to non-humans, but there is some merit to this practice as well, at least in terms of understanding the emotional behaviour of animals. Referring to scientific research on animal behaviour, cognitive ethology expert Marc Hauser notes, “Anthropomorphism can… be a useful tool for getting closer to and embracing the animals we study. It allows their behavior and emotions to be accessible to us.”
Emotions enter this debate from both sides. It would be incredibly naive to say that, yes, dogs can love us – simply because we want to believe it and can’t face an alternate reality. But it is equally naive to say that, no, they don’t – simply because we don’t want to consider the reality that the animals over which we hold dominion are emotionally complex. Both sides of this debate see some people deeply entrenched in their beliefs and unwilling to listen.
“It’s bad biology to argue against the existence of animal emotions,” notes Mark Bekoff. “Scientific research in evolutionary biology, cognitive ethology, and social neuroscience supports the view that numerous and diverse animals have rich and deep emotional lives.”
It may be bad biology, but it’s not a stretch to imagine the complications that could arise if scientists could prove with absolute certainty that dogs are capable of such complex emotions as joy, grief and sadness. The fallout could be significant. Would it spell the end of kill shelters? Would animal cruelty laws and punishment need drastic revision? What might it mean for animal testing? The ripple effect of this “proof” could be extensive – and not everyone wants to believe.
Unfortunately, cries of hidden agendas also mar this debate. For many, the mere suggestion that we consider the possibility that companion animals have complex emotions leads to charges of a hidden animal rights agenda. And once that charge is made, many people stop listening. Otherwise-fascinating debates on the subject grind to a halt. It won’t get us much farther ahead on understanding the emotional lives of animals.
It would be easy, presumably, to end the debate if there were concrete proof that dogs are capable of love. But is there proof? When I ask Jean, she responds simply, “[that] depends on how you define proof.” And there is the rub. How do we prove that dogs do or do not love us?
I’ve always been a skeptic and it’s probably why I enjoy debating so many subjects. This one reminds me of debating religion – highly passionate arguments on all sides and at the core it comes down less to proof than to beliefs.
When you debate with someone about their belief in their God, ultimately the conversation comes around to the big question: How do you know when there’s no proof? Because let’s face it, dogs are as likely to declare in human language, “Yep, we love you!” as someone’s God is to appear during a debate and settle that matter once and for all. There are signs, some argue, and a body of evidence, but that concrete, scientifically irrefutable ‘proof’ has yet to come. Still, billions of people choose to believe.
I’ve invested a lot of time in learning about this subject – reading and trying to understand the latest thinking on the subject of canine emotional intelligence. And after all that research and in light of my own experiences – and in consideration of how the universe makes sense to me – I have found my own answer, my own truth.
Yes, I choose to believe that dogs are capable of loving us, doing so in their own way and on their own terms. I choose to believe. The question is, do you?
This article originally appeared in the February 2009 edition of Dogs in Canada. Subscribe now and never miss an article.
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