Yet dog owners too often fall into the trap of making dogs their emotional equals and projecting human feelings onto them. This becomes especially alarming as the size of contemporary households shrinks. Dogs are commonly used to fill a human void: the empty nest, a single lifestyle, or the departure or death of a significant other. Too many owners consign the role of child, lover, or even therapist to their dogs.
According to a recent Purina survey, 61 percent of American women tell their dog about their problems and 31 percent feel their dog is a better listener than their partner. Fourteen percent of men say they receive more affection from their dog than from their loved ones. Twenty-four percent of men use their dog to talk to a good-looking stranger in the park.
So what’s the harm? Well, the harm is that none of the human behavior described above has anything to do with the dog. On the human’s part, it is solely self-serving and, worse, often misinterpreted by the dog. Though dogs are keenly aware of emotional changes in their owners, they do not have the ability to fully comprehend why the changes are happening. Mostly they are disturbed in some way by the changes in emotional weather. Mind you, it’s natural to feel and express emotion in the presence of your dog. And your dog can almost certainly tolerate that, and even offer you comfort. We’ve all had dogs that have come close and leaned on us as if to offer a literal shoulder to cry on. And that’s okay, but we still must remember that just as the dog offers us her shoulder, we absolutely must give her what she needs to be happy as well. If we take comfort without giving a structured life complete with work, rest, and play, it’s simply not fair to the dog.
Anthropomorphizing
However well-intentioned, humanizing a dog can quickly become a primary cause of bad dog behavior.
MARC We had a client who owned a German pinscher named Sadie. A small-to medium-sized dog, with breeding lines that include Doberman and standard schnauzer, the German pinscher is sleek, shiny, and streamlined, according to the American Kennel Club. These dogs are very intelligent, have a high degree of energy, and have a strong drive to work and be useful—they were first bred in Germany in the mid-1800s for farm work. Our client was far from a farmer. In fact, she took to painting Sadie’s toenails, carrying her in her arms like a baby, and indulging Sadie’s every whim, especially with human food. On the other hand, the owner rarely walked the dog, because Sadie would attack anyone within leash distance. She had brought Sadie to us because the dog had recently bitten someone who was visiting her home. The bite had drawn blood, and the owner was worried that Sadie might be taken from her.
In working with Sadie, it quickly became evident that the dog had not been allowed to learn even the most basic skills of how to be a dog. She was uncomfortable just walking on the ground, let alone at the end of a leash. She wasn’t used to wearing a collar. The least little doglike activity put her into an emotional shutdown, freezing her in fear.
Our course of action was, first, to have Sadie socialize with our trained dogs. Initially, Sadie would run from the sight of other dogs and hide under a table. As the days went by, however, she became curious as she watched the other dogs at play. Slowly, Sadie began to interact. At the end of ten days, she finally began to spend significant time within the pack. When she was surrounded by normal dog behavior, Sadie’s layers of anxiety began to fall away. We also started setting rules for her that were fair and clear: Don’t bolt out the door ahead of us, don’t bark at strangers, and so forth. Soon we taught her leash manners, and not too long after that, Sadie began to exhibit the characteristics of a normal, happy pet. Dogs want to normalize, and given the chance and guidance, they will.
BROTHER CHRISTOPHER I recall a couple who brought an out-of-control Cavalier King Charles spaniel named Princess for training. The owners doted on this dog, taking her for walks in a baby stroller, dressing her up in a wide variety of outfits, and bestowing a well-intentioned but suffocating amount of emotional attention upon her. Then the wife became pregnant. When the owners began treating their pet as the family dog, Princess would have none of it. She was wholly unresponsive to their attempts at training and pleas for obedience.
It doesn’t take a lot of imagination to guess how we approached Princess’s rehabilitation. We provided a very structured and balanced program of obedience training and integration into the pack to allow her dogness to blossom, and she responded beautifully to our program. Princess’s owners also gained a new appreciation of her reality as a dog and delighted in her calm and balanced behavior.
We realize, as a practical matter, that it’s very difficult to temper the emotional feelings we have for our dogs. We love our dogs. They’re part of our families and, for many of us, our only close companion. But emotion is a very powerful energy. Too much emotion is hard enough for humans to process in a healthy way. For a dog it’s nearly impossible.
It is not that anthropomorphizing always results in canine aggression. It doesn’t necessarily. But it can bring forth a host of other problems, such as separation anxiety, excessive barking, and destructive chewing. Even if the dog’s behavior is fine, what does trying to recast her as a human being say about our attitude toward the dog? Instead of honoring the dog for what she is—a dog with her own highly refined, dignified, canine nature—we parade her around as some type of shield against our shortcomings or insecurities. This is not only a gross disservice to our dog but also foolish and sad. A dog can certainly fill a void in anyone’s life. But dressing the dog up in human clothing, having her eat at the dinner table, throwing birthday parties for her? All that does is deny you the greatest gift your dog can give: the beauty, grace, and dignity of being a dog.
The Spirituality of Silence
BROTHER CHRISTOPHER Many of us live in urban settings where ambient noise is a constant. We’re subjected to a cacophony of car horns, sirens, construction noise, and disconnected voices. There’s probably not a real moment of silence in the city, even late at night. Add to that the omnipresent technological explosion—cell phones, iPads, headphones, etc.—which allows us to be in unending communication with one another and with other stimuli. It’s not unusual at all to go to a restaurant and see people sitting together but texting on the phone to other people. When we get home, the first thing we do is turn on the television or stream a movie, filling every last space with sound. We’re immersed, perhaps encased, in noise. As a society we are not only familiar with the noise surrounding us, we’re comforted by it. It has become our security blanket.
The monks know this well because of how disconcerting the absence of sound is to people who come to the monastery for retreat. It takes our visitors time to get used to the silence, or near silence, of our setting. Why is silence off-putting at first? Because it forces people to keep company with themselves. The thoughts that pass through the human consciousness in everyday life are usually lost to the distractions of the surrounding noise. Take those distractions away, and you’re left with just the thoughts, some of which are uncomfortable to contemplate.
Even in conversation you see this. How many times have you rushed to fill an uncomfortable silence, a pregnant pause? Often, we at the monastery are called upon to offer spiritual direction. During these conversations, some of which occur at times of struggle or pain in someone’s life, even the briefest silence can become uncomfortable to the people to whom we minister. It is very hard for them to be still for even a minute or two. The instinct is to fill the silence with more thoughts and words. But we believe that words lose value in numbers—the more you use them, the less meaningful they become. Words can dilute our presence, both mentally and spiritually. In a more corporeal sense, what happens is that the words become mindless chatter, and people pay less attention to them and take them less seriously.
Same goes with our dogs.
Most people would consider talking to their dogs as the most valuable way to communicate with them. In fact, much of the communication between owner and dog is almost entirely verbal on the conscious level.
Dogs, however, don’t speak English. Nor do they understand Italian, French, Farsi, or any other human language. Yes, studies* have concluded that dogs can learn upwards of 165 words, or what a two-year-old human can comprehend. But unlike the two-year-old human’s intelligence, the dog’s intelligence has peaked at that level. For most healthy two-year-olds, their intelligence is a platform on which their comprehension will continue to expand. So, yes, some dogs are incredibly cogent with language, but language does not have the same depth and resonance with dogs as it does with humans. To dogs, words are merely sounds that represent actions. In fact, independent of our body language, intonation, and the emotional energy with which we infuse our conversations, it’s doubtful your dog would know many of those 165 words.
Although they may be lacking in spoken language skills, dogs, as we’ve mentioned, are positively adept at interpreting our feelings. How many times has your dog instinctually responded to you during times of emotional upheaval, and done so without your trying to solicit his attention? Dogs are particularly skilled at reading our emotional temperature. In other words, sometimes dogs relate to us better without words.
It makes sense, then, to try to improve your nonverbal communication with your dog. One powerful way to sharpen your skills is through a kind of fast. We call it the Twenty-Four-Hour Vow of Silence Challenge. The goal of this challenge is twofold. One, you’ll learn that your dog listens to you more and watches you more closely when you’re quieter. Two, your dog will learn that what you say in the future is probably important.
There can be great power and reward in nonverbal communication with your dog. If you speak less, your dog will listen more. California trainer Jen Freilich shares a quiet moment with Han Solo.
Twenty-Four-Hour Vow of Silence
Here are some points to bear in mind as you consider taking the challenge:
Your dog might not miss the words as much as you will.
Your dog speaks in body language, so try using gestures to communicate what you want.
If you want your dog to come to you, try bending down slightly and holding out your arms in a welcoming manner. Most dogs will read that as an invitation to receive affection and thus respond. (You can also hold out your hand with a treat in it to make your dog even more motivated to come promptly.)
Raise a treat in the air, just over your dog’s nose, as a signal for sit. Then lower and give the treat as soon as your dog sits.
Just for today, keep a leash on your dog and let it drag behind him while you’re together. Since your dog will be used to receiving verbal commands from you, he may test limits in any number of ways until he starts paying close attention to your body. For example, should your dog hop up on the couch or bed, simply pick the leash up to remove him instead of verbally scolding him for forbidden behavior.
You don’t have to avoid speaking to people, just to your dog.
Remember, the challenge will be over in twenty-four hours, and you can go back to speaking to your dog… when it’s important.
Don’t worry if it seems hard. Habits are hard to break… even for twenty-four hours.
If you speak less, your dog will listen more.
Some may find this challenge very hard, but the results can be dramatic. Believe us, we know a little about the importance of quiet.
Techniques like the Twenty-Four-Hour Vow of Silence can be used to deepen your connection and communication with your dog, not only on a temporal level but also in a spiritual way. The vow of silence helps you avoid throwing out arbitrary commands and verbiage, and allows you to be present and focused and truly in tune with your dog’s needs. If you are really tending to your dog, the relationship will grow in ways that you wouldn’t necessarily have thought possible.
Humans are sensual beings, yet we often tunnel our communicative ability into words and in doing so shortchange our other God-given talents. Conversely, when we shut down our verbal communication, it enhances our nonverbal skills—similar to the way the other four senses of a blind person are sharpened. To be self-aware is crucial in a successful relationship with your dog.
Emotional Training
In today’s caffeine-fueled, not-enough-hours-in-the-day world, some people leave dogs by themselves for long stretches of time. When the owner finally returns home, she’s so excited to see the dog, or feels so guilty about having been away from him, she greets him in endearing terms often delivered in a falsetto voice. She scratches, pets, and even picks the dog up and kisses him. Although the dog might appreciate the attention, he really doesn’t understand why there’s so much excitement all of a sudden. Look at it from the dog’s point of view: He’s at home, probably sleeping, maybe dreaming of squirrels, then the door opens up and all hell breaks loose. Yes, the dog’s delighted reaction to the owner reinforces her expectations. And, yes, the dog is probably happy the owner is home, but the happiness should be expressed by the dog and not in some artificial or aroused way. We at New Skete call this putting the dog in emotional Disneyland. When the owner then takes the dog out for a walk, he is likely to be unfocused and unresponsive, and at worst he will begin to behave badly. Is there any wonder why?
On the other hand, say you come home from a difficult day. You throw your briefcase on the couch or kick your shoes across the room as you remove them. Your dog might run up to greet you, and maybe you’ll say, “Will you just stop it?” or “Calm down!” What happens then is a vicious cycle: The owner is agitated, which agitates or frightens the dog. The dog becomes confused and might react in a number of ways, none of which is helpful, only agitating the owner more. On the tail end of it, so to speak, the owner may feel guilty and try to verbally apologize in a tone that further confuses the dog.
Many dogs owned by people who constantly talk to them just tune their owners out. You might think your dog understands you, but all the dog is hearing is wah wah wahhh wahhh wah, like Charlie Brown’s teacher. Our words fade into the background like static. The owner then complains to us that his dog just doesn’t listen.
Here’s a suggestion that might alleviate the problem: Instead of making a fuss over your dog when you come home, or taking your frustration out on him, try to be calm each time you enter the house (this might contribute to your well-being, too). If you want to greet your dog, make sure the greeting is subdued: no high-pitched squeals or baby talk. You’ll sometimes even want to delay the greeting for a few moments if you have a dog that is easily excitable. If you have an anxious dog, you might want to quietly get the leash, leash the dog, and then bring him into a sit. Instead of saying anything to the dog, just gently pet him and make eye contact. (We’ll elaborate on the importance of eye contact below.) By entering the house with minimal drama, you’ve not only taken the edge off the dog’s excitability but also given yourself a chance to be present and focused rather than throwing at the dog the collective noise of the day.
The Look of Love
It has been written that the eyes are the lamp of the soul, and this is true in dogs as well as humans. Consider how your dog’s eyes speak to you if you only listen. From joy to fear to curiosity, mischief, and boredom—your dog’s eyes reflect a broad range of inner emotion. How often have you looked into his eyes and wondered what he’s thinking?
Searching your dog’s eyes for hints of his thought process is a pleasurable exercise, and in more ways than one. According to a recent study published in Scientific American, a leading journal of original scientific research, the simple act of gazing into your dog’s eyes (or your dog gazing into yours) releases a chemical in the human body called oxytocin. The body’s production of oxytocin—also known as the “cuddle hormone”—causes a physiological effect similar to what a mother feels toward her infant. Other interactions with your dog, like petting, playing, or even talking to him, can release additional bonding neurochemicals such as dopamine and endorphins.*
This connection, one that we’d like to think begins both in our chemistry and in our souls, might be the only connection of its kind between humans and another member of the animal kingdom. In us, the light in our dog’s eyes can bring the warmth of childhood and the love a parent feels toward a child. Without a doubt, this emotional cause and reflect, so to speak, is what makes the relationship between dog and man singular.
Like any love affair, however, this intense emotional bond can also be the cause of a great deal of heartache—ask any owner who has outlived his dog. Many of us have gone through the searing pain of putting a canine friend down. We look into our dog’s eyes one last time and are struck with a grief that rivals the loss of a human loved one.
In life, though, being aware of eye contact with your dog is a sure way to control emotion. Humans make eye contact reflexively, without thinking about it. It’s notable primarily in its absence. We take a certain measure of eye contact as a sign of respect and interest in the other person. You would find it disquieting to talk to someone who doesn’t look you in the eye. Imagine sitting at a table across from a person who only occasionally makes eye contact with you. Chances are you would think that person was odd or didn’t like you. Now think about a person who stares at you constantly. Might make you a little self-conscious, no? In normal human interactions, people look at each other’s faces, look at the other person’s mouth as she speaks, frequently make eye contact, and then glance away.
To really feel the power of eye contact, try a simple two-part experiment. Have a conversation with a friend in which you do not look into your friend’s eyes at all. You might find that it’s difficult, but try your hardest and then note your friend’s reaction. She will no doubt detect that something is off. In fact, she is likely to think something is wrong. Maybe she will ask you about this immediately. Maybe not. Either way, let her in on the experiment afterward and discuss.
Now try the opposite with someone else. Have a conversation and do not break eye contact. Blink as normal, but remain focused on your friend’s eyes without glancing away. See what happens. Chances are your friend will try to break eye contact with you a couple of times. He might feel uncomfortable or challenged. This part of the experiment will likely end with your friend asking, “Why are you staring at me?”
For humans, the matter of eye contact involves many subtle cues that we use instinctually (though some of these cues are influenced by our culture).
The ocular connection we have with dogs, however, is a bit more complicated because it travels across species. Dogs most certainly do not eyeball one another to the same degree people do. In fact, sustained direct eye contact between two dogs most often means only one of two things is about to happen: hard play or a fight.
Mother told us it is impolite to stare, but when it comes to our dogs, we just can’t seem to help ourselves. And sometimes dogs can’t help themselves, either. They see you staring at them, and optimistically, they take it as an invitation to play. If you’re staring into your dog’s eyes while you’re seated, he’ll probably wind up in your lap. If you’re standing, he might jump on you. Either way, this probably wasn’t what you had in mind. Very few people look into their dog’s eyes thinking, Gee, I wish you’d jump and scratch me right now.
There is a difference between the eye contact we want and spoke about earlier and staring. Eye contact is a glance from your dog to you, as if to say, “Do you need anything, boss?” But heavily sustained direct eye contact—what our mother admonished us not to do—carries a lot of emotional weight when delivered from person to dog. Your dog will have a reaction, and it might not be a nice one. Does this necessarily mean that sustained eye contact is bad or wrong? Not at all. As we’ve mentioned, when you’re feeding your dog, it’s always a good idea for the dog to focus on you rather than on the bowl or treat. If you’re just gazing at your dog, he might not construe it the wrong way. But other dogs might, so it is important to help them gradually get used to it and understand your meaning. Start with shorter instances of eye contact accompanied by an affectionate word or touch, and then calmly look away. As your dog gets accustomed to this, gradually increase the length of time you gaze. Be aware that what you’re saying with your eyes may very well mean one thing to you (I love you) and a very different thing to your dog (he’s inviting me to jump on him right now), so start slowly and be patient. Glancing at your dog says, “Hi, what are you up to?” but staring can say, “It’s on.” Many people don’t realize this.
MARC Recently, I had a client with a Lab named Holly. Holly had the usual set of behavior difficulties: pulling on the leash, coming when called only selectively, and jumping on people. Holly responded very nicely to training, and when the client came to pick Holly up, the dog’s new manner both pleased and impressed him. They took a long leash walk around my farm, and Holly neither strained nor pulled. After the walk, I instructed the client to have Holly sit and to pet her without saying anything, which he did. All good so far, right? Then the client squatted in front of Holly and stared her right in the eye as if to say, “I’m so proud of you.” Holly leapt at him with both paws and knocked him on his rear. “Well,” the client said, dusting himself off, “I guess you weren’t able to stop her from doing this.”
I asked the client to have Holly sit and pet her again, but this time kneeling down and without the stare. Holly sat there as nice as can be.
It’s especially important to remain aware of your lingering gaze when you encounter a new dog. Your urge to stare into a dog’s eyes is understandable. You love dogs and want to engage. But put yourself in the dog’s place for a moment: A perfect stranger walks right up to you, stares you in the eye, and then begins talking in a high-pitched voice telling you how cute you are. Weird, right? Threatening, perhaps? It might actually cause you to react in a not-so-nice way. Well, that’s pretty much how the dog experiences it.
For most of this chapter, we’ve been discussing the emotions that travel from you to your dog. The relationship with your canine, however, is a two-way street. Dogs experience and emit all kinds of emotions, from jealousy to grief to unbridled joy and even laughter.
It was Konrad Lorenz in Man Meets Dog who perhaps first articulated in print the idea that dogs laugh: “An invitation to play always follows; here the slightly opened jaws which reveal the tongue, and the tilted angle of the mouth which stretches almost from ear to ear give a still stronger impression of laughing. This ‘laughing’ is most often seen in dogs playing with an adored master and which become so excited that they soon start panting.”* Lorenz would quantify the idea a bit later in the text: “Perhaps these facial movements are preliminary signs of the panting which sets in as the playing mood gains ascendancy”—but he seems to hope his theory is correct.
What dog lover would doubt that dogs get excited to play, sometimes “smile,” and become so excited they start panting? Nobel Prize–winner Konrad Lorenz was convinced.
A half century later, the animal behaviorist Patricia Simonet recorded dogs at play in dog parks and discovered a panting sound that was of a different frequency than regular dog panting. When she imitated the sound back to dogs, it seemed to have a pleasing effect on them.
We have no doubt that dogs like to laugh and we encourage dog owners to laugh right along with them.
Without question, dogs can be medicine for our souls. Perhaps the greatest gift they give us is the opportunity to forget about the unproductive introspection in which we all too often engage. They draw us out of ourselves. Although the urge to load them with our own emotional baggage is understandable, it is patently unfair to the dogs because it disregards their reality. We can do justice to a relationship with a dog only when we honor it as it is.
Treat your dog like a dog. The mystery of that interaction alone will keep you too busy to think about yourself.