The Profound Bond: Exploring the Relationship Between Humans and Dogs
“Why is my loyal companion lying at my feet, curled up like a croissant as I write this? How did his warm, slightly pungent scent become endearing to me? Why do I chuckle when friends joke about his fishy breath during dinner gatherings? Why do I willingly invest over £1,000 annually in his insurance? And why does my heart swell with love for him?
Ludo isn’t extraordinary; he’s simply a Labrador Retriever, one of half a million in the UK (a dime a dozen in the United States, the most favored breed in both lands). Yet, Ludo shares many traits with his counterparts. He adores chasing after balls; fetching is his forte. He could devour all the food in sight, leaving none for his fellow canines. Like many of his breed, he’s predisposed to hip dysplasia. And he looks particularly regal lounging on a plush bed in a warm, cozy home, a world away from his Newfoundland ancestors.
Nevertheless, to me and my family, Ludo is irreplaceable. At the age of twelve and a half, he’s become a cherished member of our household, and we’d go to great lengths to ensure his happiness. We gladly endure soaking rain as he sniffs out every scent on Hampstead Heath. Our daily routines revolve around his needs—his meals, his walks, the timely administration of his life-saving medication (he suffers from epilepsy, poor fellow). A significant portion of our disposable income is allocated to him, yet he never expresses gratitude. When he’s absent for a few days (when our children take him for a weekend, for instance), the house feels eerily empty. I consider myself incredibly fortunate to have him in my life. I shudder to think how we’ll cope when he’s no longer with us.
This profound bond between humans and dogs has evolved over centuries, profoundly impacting countless lives, both human and canine. If, as Nietzsche suggests, “The world is explained by dogs,” then perhaps studying dogs could offer valuable insights into our own selves.
Why is this man engaging in a repetitive tapping sound, occasionally accompanied by affectionate sighs? How many hot beverages can he brew while interrupting his typing? Why is he perpetually late in preparing my lunch? Why can’t the memory foam bed he purchased recall how snugly I curled up in it last night? Why do I feel so fortunate to have him?
The anthropomorphism of dogs isn’t a recent trend. I possess a photograph on my desk of a 19th-century black Labrador dressed as a gentleman in a suit, top hat, and even smoking a pipe.
Depictions of talking dogs have been prevalent in cinema since the advent of sound in movies. However, the intertwining of human and canine has never been as abundant, imaginative, or unsettling as it is today. Our bond—our mutual dedication—seems to have deepened significantly over the past half-century, largely due to advancements in genetics enhancing our scientific understanding of dogs, and sociological insights broadening avenues for shared interaction. Like intoxicated dancers, we are joyously entwined with our faithful companions.
Unfortunately, such fervor doesn’t always culminate positively. Alongside my Victorian gentleman, I have a picture of a dog sporting a flat Kangol cap and glasses, resembling Samuel L. Jackson. On my computer, images abound of dogs engaged in activities such as reading, sailing, and even riding bicycles. I recognize the ethical dilemma inherent in these depictions, yet I find it difficult to resist adding more to my collection, captivated by their irresistible charm.
Every week, I receive an email from the American magazine, Bark, under the subject line “Smiling Dogs.” Each message features at least two photographs of delightful, grinning canines, such as Baxter (“Baxter exudes a bubbly personality, adores food, basks in the sun, relishes outdoor hikes, and revels in cuddles”) and Chad (“This charming boy may appear aloof initially, but that’s what lends him his mysterious and appealing aura!”). Despite their appeal, it’s important to recognize that these dogs aren’t actually smiling. The folks at Bark understand that photogenic qualities often expedite adoption; most of the dogs featured are in search of loving homes after enduring rough beginnings.
The names we bestow upon our dogs increasingly resemble those we’d give our children. For every traditional Fido, there’s a contemporary Florence; for every old Major, a modern Max. This wasn’t the case thirty years ago. Today, human names dominate the roster of canine monikers. Nelson remains a popular choice, while names like Greta are on the rise. If you have a female dog named Taylor, it’s only fitting to name her male counterpart Swift. Lawyers favor names like Shyster for their dogs, architects lean toward Zaha, and parks are teeming with young Fleabags. Interestingly, in rap culture, the trend is reversed: artists like Snoop Dogg, Phife Dawg, Nate Dogg, and Bow Wow exemplify this.
We increasingly use dogs as metaphors to describe human traits and behaviors. A tenacious radio interviewer is likened to a Rottweiler, while a gentle one may be compared to a poodle (or a puppy). Characters in novels who are loyal and friendly are often depicted as cuddly Labradors, while unscrupulous individuals in the business world are equated with pit bulls. A person who refuses to give up is said to fight like a terrier, while a detective relentlessly pursues her prey like a bloodhound. The analogies are endless, illustrating our deep-seated connection with our canine companions.
For centuries, we’ve employed dogs to express our emotions and actions. After toiling strenuously, we’re dog-tired. We might indulge in a hair of the dog to alleviate a hangover. Books filled with trivial verse are dog-eared. We root for the underdog, bark up the wrong tree, and occasionally find ourselves in the doghouse. Depression is symbolized by a black dog, while a downtrodden demeanor is described as hangdog. A messy situation is compared to a dog’s breakfast, followed by a dog’s dinner. And when everything goes awry, we lament, “The dog ate my homework, so I’m in dire straits.” These lists, once considered quaint, are now embraced as a reflection of contemporary language usage. And even our sexual practices are described using terms popularized by dogs, so much so that they’ve become ingrained in our cultural lexicon.
In the era of lockdowns, Ludo is the sole inhabitant of our household who remains unruffled. Instead, he’s perpetually fatigued. It’s become a truism to note that the pandemic has been unexpectedly favorable to dogs: they’re rarely left home alone now, receiving more walks than they can handle. Their companionship proves invaluable for mental well-being. Friends and neighbors clamor to spend time with them; owning a dog provides a legitimate excuse to venture outdoors. Rescue organizations report a surge in adoption inquiries, and the price of purebred dogs has skyrocketed. Social media platforms abound with Covid-19 dog-related content: sports commentator Andrew Cotter’s endearing Labrador duo, Olive and M
abel, have captured the hearts of millions as they vie for supremacy during lockdown, while the outpouring of grief following Monty Don’s announcement of his golden retriever Nigel’s passing rivaled that of Princess Diana. However, genuine concerns have emerged, leading to headlines proclaiming that “a dog isn’t just for Covid”; many novice owners find the responsibilities of pet ownership overwhelming.
Even if you’ve never owned a dog or only watched Crufts on television, you’re likely aware of the multifaceted, intricate relationship we share with our canine companions—a relationship as diverse, perplexing, and complicated as those we share with other humans. Dogs are no longer mere residents of our homes; they’re integral members of our families, the closest connection we dare to forge with a species not our own.
In many respects, dogs have become extensions of ourselves. Albert Einstein once remarked on the intelligence and grudge-holding abilities of his wire-haired fox terrier, Chico. “He pities me because of the deluge of mail I receive; that’s why he tries to nip the mailman.” While such anthropomorphism is frowned upon by many animal behaviorists as inhumane, it’s become a common practice among dog lovers, who view it as perfectly acceptable. In fact, we’ve embraced it with such fervor and normalcy that failing to incorporate turmeric into our dogs’ diets may soon be deemed neglectful.
Spending time with a well-mannered dog inevitably sparks curiosity about their thoughts, fears, and sources of joy. Dogs inhabit their own self-centered world, or Umwelt, as the German biologist Jakob von Uexküll described it. Or, as primatologist Frans de Waal posits in his book, “Are We Smart Enough to Know How Smart Animals Are?” a dog’s inability to grasp concepts like time and money isn’t indicative of their intelligence; rather, it reflects the insignificance of these constructs in their world.
While the average dog brain is only one-third the size of a human brain, their olfactory prowess far exceeds our own, with over 200 million smell-sensitive receptors compared to a human’s 5 million. Consequently, a significant portion of a dog’s brain is dedicated to processing smells—about a third, as opposed to just 5% in humans.
Observing my own dog, with his distinguished snout, I’m struck by how he perceives the world around him. His keen sense of smell enables him to assess not only his surroundings and fellow canines but also people: he can discern who might be apprehensive of dogs and keeps his distance; he remembers those who’ve shown him kindness in the past, greeting them with enthusiasm and a cherished toy in tow; and he’s attuned to when his human companions are feeling down, offering comfort in his own unique way. It begs the question: are we reciprocating this level of understanding and respect toward him and his peers?
One of the endearing qualities that draw us to puppies—aside from their undeniable cuteness—is their insatiable curiosity. Puppies eagerly explore their surroundings, investigating anything and everything in their path. This curiosity persists into adulthood; older dogs remain intrigued by irregular noises, compelled to investigate further. Their inquisitive nature fosters our own curiosity as dog owners—we, too, are driven by a desire to unravel the mysteries of what makes a dog a dog and why they make such enriching companions. In our shared love for dogs, we find a sense of community and belonging, connecting us to millions of others who share our passion. As for Ludo, despite our efforts to mold him in our image over the past 10,000 years, he excels most at being precisely what he is: a dog. He revels in the anticipation of mealtime, or any food really, and he never fails to come running when called, eliciting boundless joy whenever we’re together.