The Other End of the Leash: Why We Do What We Do Around Dogs

Humankind is drawn to dogs because they are so like ourselves—bumbling, affectionate, confused, easily disappointed, eager to be amused, grateful for kindness and the least attention.

So I invite all of you to show our own species the same patience and compassion that we show dogs. After all, dogs seem to like us a lot, and I have the utmost respect for their opinion.

Our species is obsessed with play: we are either participating ourselves or watching others play for us.

Ideally play is joyful and childlike, a physically and psychologically healthy exercise for both people and dogs. Psychologists and spiritual counselors advise us all to put more childlike play into our lives. I think it’s great advice: play is good for our spirits, our bodies, and our minds. It teaches us, both dogs and humans, to coordinate our efforts with others, to learn to inhibit ourselves even when excited, and to share the ball even when we want it for ourselves.

Any individual who truly has a lot of social status has enough power that he or she doesn't need to use force.

All human cultures, from hunter-gatherers to city slickers, share certain universals in the ways that we, as primates, interact with one another. This social destiny has a profound influence on the way that we relate to our dogs.

Subordinates may initiate contact more often, but the one with the higher rank gets to decide when and if to interact.

Even in the best of times, when we’re not stressed or needy, many of us enjoy petting our dogs as much as any other aspect of dog ownership. This is not a trivial need. Quiet stroking can significantly change your body’s physiology, lowering your heart rate and blood pressure. It releases endogenous opiates, or internal chemicals that calm and soothe us and play a significant role in good health. Lucky for us, most of our dogs adore being touched. Most normal, well-socialized dogs cherish getting belly rubs and head massages and butt scratches. Many dogs like grooming so much that they’re willing to work for it, pawing or barking whenever needed to remind their human not to stop.

The next time you see a dog you’d like to greet, stop a few feet away, stand sideways rather than straight on, and avoid looking directly into her eyes. Wait for the dog to come all the way to you. If she doesn’t, she doesn’t want to be petted. So don’t pet her. It’s not really that much to ask.

If barking correlates with a juvenile and submissive condition, then it’s doubtful that dogs read our loud vocal displays as dominant or impressive. Rather, they might see them as a sign of fear or as a sign that we don’t have a lot of control. Many people to whom dogs are drawn are laconic and soft-spoken. I think their lack of “barking” is perceived as a sign of leadership, and dogs are drawn to their sense of self-confidence.

common situation of visual miscommunication between people and dogs is when owners let their leashed dogs meet each other for the first time. The humans are often anxious about how the dogs will get along, and if you watch them instead of the dogs, you’ll often notice that the humans will hold their breath and round their eyes and mouths in an “on alert” expression. Since these behaviors are expressions of offensive aggression in canine culture, I suspect that the humans are unwittingly signaling tension. If you exaggerate this by tightening the leash, as many owners do, you can actually cause the dogs to attack each other. Think of it: the dogs are in a tense social encounter, surrounded by support from their own pack, with the humans forming a tense, staring, breathless circle around them. I don’t know how many times I’ve seen dogs shift their eyes toward their owners’ frozen faces and then launch growling at the other dog. You can avoid a lot of dogfights by relaxing the muscles in your face, smiling with your eyes, breathing slowly, and turning away from the dogs rather than leaning forward and adding more tension.

We humans are in such a strange position -we are still animals whose behavior reflects that of our ancestors, yet we are unique- unlike any other animal on earth. Our distinctiveness separates us and makes it easy to forget where we came from. Perhaps dogs help us remember the depth of our roots, reminding us -the animals at the other end of the leash- that we may be special, but we are not alone. No wonder we call them our best friends.

The scientist in me is perfectly comfortable with the animal lover in me, and we are both happy to celebrate together the miracle of our relationship with dogs.

There's more than just our playful nature that suggests eternal youth has played a role in our evolution. One of the most defining characteristics of humans is our creativity, our willingness to try new things and new ways of interacting with our environment -all traits normally associated with youth.

The more you love your dog, the more you need to understand human behavior.

The similarities that we share, and the differences that confuse us, are a blessing and a curse in our relationship with dogs.

Take a sketchbook with you and your dog to the dog park (any paper with a solid backing will do) and start watching, describing, and sketching specific movements of your dog. Focus on which way her body leans and write it down and try to sketch a picture. Notice whether the corners of her mouth (the commissure) go forward or backward and write down when it happens and when it doesn’t. Do her eyes look “hard” or “soft” when she’s greeting another dog? How does her tail set change when she sees another dog? Is it the same change as when she sees a human? Focus on just one body part at a time; otherwise, your brain gets swamped and you can’t really focus on a specific action. Try keeping your notes and sketches together in a

This tendency has led to the suggestion that humans are paedomorphic primates. It’s not necessarily a new hypothesis—a man named John Fiske made the argument as early as 1884—but it continues to be a reasonable one. There’s more than just our playful nature that suggests eternal youth has played a role in our evolution. One of the defining characteristics of humans is our creativity, our willingness to try new things and new ways of interacting with our environment—all traits normally associated with youth.

This tendency to continue exuberant play into adulthood is one of the factors that leads most scientists to consider dogs and humans as “paedomorphic,

We humans are in such a strange position—we are still animals whose behavior reflects that of our ancestors, yet we are unique—unlike any other animal on earth. Our distinctiveness separates us and makes it easy to forget where we came from. Perhaps dogs help us remember the depth of our roots, reminding us—the animals at the other end of the leash—that we may be special, but we are not alone. No wonder we call them our best friends.

If “OK” meant that “it’s all right to get up now,” it makes sense that Pip would respond when she heard it. So if your dog Chief can pick the word sit out of the middle of a sentence, what is he to make of “Good sit” after he already sat? With Pip I got caught up in using words as if I were talking to a human, and I think other owners replicate that mistake often.

I drove my Border Collies crazy for a few weeks trying to teach them to wait at the door as a group and then go outside one at a time. Each dog could go out the door after I said his or her name, followed by the word OK. As soon as I said “OK,” not surprisingly, all the dogs would get up and move forward, no matter whose name preceded it. I knew it would be hard for them, since they had all learned as individuals that “OK” meant “Go ahead and do what you want.” But I thought that if I were clear and patient, they would learn to move only if they heard “OK” after their own name. After a couple of weeks, I was frustrated and my dogs were confused. Pip was so distressed that she started to stress-whine. Pip gets the connection between a sound and an action faster than any dog I’ve ever had, but she never could figure out that “OK” only related to her if her name preceded it. She’d sit waiting at the door, I’d say “Luke, OK,” and she’d start to move forward and backward, clearly unsure of how to proceed, searching my face for clues until she began to look stressed when I moved toward the door. She practically wrapped her paws over her ears.

As a matter of fact, the universal tendency of adult domestic dogs to bark is one of the many behavioral markers that suggests that adult dogs are actually a juvenilized version of adult wolves.