Dog is not a four letter word

Very dear friends of mine became parents today. At 2:30am they delivered a baby girl; a beautiful, healthy, precious bundle of joy who will enrapture them and wind their hearts around her little finger. They're first time parents so when my husband and I told them, repeatedly, that their whole life was about to change they nodded and agreed, but anyone could see that behind their smiles they didn't truly understand the brevity of their old life or the upheaval they will soon be experiencing in their new one. And that's fine - no one can really prepare you for something in which you have no experience with - but there is one big red flag that waved at me from behind their heads when we have had these discussions and it troubles me.

You see, this new baby girl will be brought into a home where two very pampered cats and one much doted on dog already live and reign with velvet covered iron paws. As their friend, a person with more than a few years of pet ownership and a handful of years of experience training dogs under her belt, I felt it was my obligation to tell them that not only will their lives change but that their pets' lives would change too. When I have told them this their smiles widened and I got a knowing look.

"Oh, nothing will change. We'll still love them and treat them exactly the same as we do now."

Those of us who love animals and owned animals before we were parents know the feelings we had/have for these beloved pets. They were our first babies; we bought them special treats and took them on pet-friendly outings. We visited dog bakeries looking for just the right all-natural cookies and bought the finest collars and leashes. Dog daycare, veterinarian-approved boarding kennels, and grooming bills that rivaled our own, we spared little expense. Surely, the love we felt for these animals could not be eclipsed.

And then the baby came. Wow. It's amazing how some things can change.

In my line of work I hear countless stories of "problem dogs" who, according to their owners, were wonderful before the kids came but then started acting out when a new baby was brought into the house. Stories of people who feel the need to give up their dogs because they just can't handle the extra work. What they don't realize, or don't want to recognize, is that these problems could have been avoided. And it makes me sad, really sad.

These people, my friends included, also don't realize that it's not their dog's problem. It's theirs. People are the cause of more dog behavior problems than you might think. Would you like to know why? Because dog owners are not treating their dogs like dogs but like little furry children.

It's commonly called "anthropomorphism",or "the attribution of human motivation, characteristics, or behavior to nonhuman organisms or inanimate objects." Dog owners commonly attribute human behavior to their dogs. Love, malice, jealousy and revenge are human motivations and behaviors that dogs know nothing about, at least not in a human way, but we insist on believing otherwise and that is very dangerous. For both us and our dogs.

Let me give you an example. My friends, the soon-to-be-new parents, told me when I asked where their dog would be sleeping (to paraphrase):

He'll continue sleeping on the bed with us, we don't want to hurt his feelings.

Hurt his feelings? I saw red flags popping up all over the place. What happens when the baby comes home and their dog, a very friendly and very large Golden Retriever, wants to cuddle? I can tell you what I think will happen, before long that dog will be unceremoniously kicked off the bed and off the couch. His feelings won't be hurt, but he'll be confused as hell and if you ask me that is really not fair. Not that he'll be relegated to the floor but because his life as he knows it will change, quickly. And that's just one way that his life will change. Will his owners spend as much time petting and stroking him? Probably not. Will they cut his walks short on occasion? Probably. And in countless other small ways his life will change, but they're not preparing him. They're going to lavish attention on him right up until the end, thinking that they're doing right by him. But they're not. It's like pulling the rug out from under someone who's not looking. Not fair.

Another example of anthropomorphism, at its most blatant (and used very effectively, if I do say so myself), is the latest Pedigree commercial. Why does that commercial cut us to the core when we see it? Well, aside from the dulcet tones of David Duchovny's voice, the music, and the ridiculously cute canine faces, it's the narrative. The dog is talking to us.

"I know how to sit, how to fetch and how to roll over. What I don't know is how I ended up in here. But I know that I am a good dog and I just want to go home."

Don't feel bad if that commercial strikes a raw nerve in you. It's supposed to. But think of it this way - does a dog know good from bad? Not really, not in the way that we do. Good and Bad are abstract qualities that a dog would never think about, mainly because it doesn't have the intelligence to do so.

Mata H., a contributor at Blogher, wrote better than I could why this commercial gets to us in the psychological sense, so I'll let you go over there and see what she's written. In short, however, we see ourselves in the dog. Yes, I am a good boy/good girl. I don't deserve what was done to me. We're, in part, rescuing a part of ourselves when we rescue these dogs.

But what do my friends and their dog have to do with this Pedigree commercial? I do believe that my friends and others like them are treating their dogs in the manner in which they themselves want to be treated.

Let's get down to the irony. Why do you think so many of those dogs ended up in those pounds and shelters to begin with? A good number end up there because people put heavy burdens on these animals that they could never live up to. Dogs act, for lack of a better term, dogish. They are dogs who pull and bark and dig. Dogs who jump on our clean clothes with muddy, scratchy paws. Or dogs who don't come when they're called. They're dogs who are expected to live in a human world but were never properly taught how to do that.

Not fair.

I don't expect that the dog belonging to my friends will end up in a pound. For all of their naiveté they do truly love him and are willing to do whatever it takes to keep him happy. And the best part is that they've taken the years they had with him before the baby to give him as much training as possible. I'm just afraid that some damage will be done in their desperate attempt to keep him happy. Because, in the end, they are doing these things, for good or bad, out of love.

The love of dogs is a heady emotion for those of us who feel as if we can't live without one and the Pedigree commercial is extremely persuasive. But before you rush out to adopt the first cute face and wagging tail that sits before you in your local animal shelter after watching that commercial for the hundredth time please remember this...

You're getting a dog, not a mini version of your damaged psyche, if I may be so blunt. You're bringing an animal, with all of his or her canine behaviors - for better or for worse - into your home and into your lives. The least you can do is make a concerted effort to make that transition as easy as possible. And whether you're adopting a dog or already have one at home, do everyone a favor - yourself, the dog, the workers at the pound - please treat the dog with respect.

Treat him like a dog.