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Don’t Hug Your Dog
I reprint this, from the NYTimes, without comment:
To the average dog lover, the animals’ floppy ears and pudgy paws are simply cute. But there is actual science behind their design: They are cursorial animals, which means that they have adapted to run as their first line of defense, said Stanley Coren, a psychology professor emeritus at the University of British Columbia and a dog-training expert.
So when a human, however well-meaning or needy, moves in for a full-body embrace, it immobilizes the dog and increases the animal’s stress level, he wrote in a Psychology Today blog post this month.
Dr. Coren’s recommendation? “Save your hugs for your two-footed family members and lovers. It is clearly better from the dog’s point of view if you express your fondness for your pet with a pat, a kind word and maybe a treat.”
Well, I meant “without comment” until now:
This is madness. My dog, Illy, loves to be hugged. She actively maneuvers herself into that position. Here she is, looking elegant:
On the other hand, the dog I had before her, Cohiba — and yes, that was his name: when he was a puppy he was totally brown and had a bright red nose — he didn’t like it so much. He liked to be scratched behind the ears and on the top of the head and then sort of left alone. Here he is looking regal:
Maybe it’s because Cohiba was a dude and Illy is a lady. (I’m probably guilty of all sorts of cis-gendered normality bias for that.) Maybe it’s because Illy is 100 percent Labrador, which means 100 percent sweetness, and Cohiba had a lot of German Shepherd in him, which means at least 50 percent “Let me do me-ness.” Or maybe there’s something else in it.
This line of reasoning, though, struck me: “They are cursorial animals, which means that they have adapted to run as their first line of defense.”
So have we. That’s what humans do, too. And we still like the odd hug now and then.
On the other hand, dogs do not like sweaters or silly sunglasses. I say, hug away. But forget about the cute outfits.
Here’s Illy again, looking ready for action:
That last picture is utterly gratuitous. So, please: let’s see some dog pictures now. No sense in pretending we don’t want to do it.
Published in General
This dog doesn’t mind a hug.
The Queen, HM Asta in her (aka, MY) favorite chair
The second Corgi, Genevieve, who was a doppelgänger of my first Corgi, Chester.
Agreed. My first Corgi loved to be hugged, while my second Corgi (an abused pup I got from a rescue) hated it.
My current beast, Calvin the Wonderbeagle, who was also from a rescue, absolutely despises being hugged or feeling trapped in any way. No history of abuse that we know of, he just needs his independence. Instead of hugs, he demands bellyrubs and ear flapping.
Calvin also has a promising future in boudoir photography.
Mine are cursorial, but a bit short-coupled (hangin’ out on the Brazos river at Baylor University in Waco, TX):
Was that line misplaced from the article on the French Army?
Out of hugs:
Two-footed family members and lovers. Mutually exclusive?
I’ve heard about you and the Corgis…
You were right. I did want to see my doggie’s face again. She looks a little guilty…..or accusing.
Nonsense. Dogs like to be hugged. Luke, my German Shepherd loved cuddling and hugging, so did all my other seven dogs.
My last dog, Dixie, did not want to be hugged. She wanted belly rubs. And walks. She worshiped me – quite literally in the sense Romans worshiped their gods. Total adoration, but dude – rub my belly. Again. Again. And every evening she would nudge me until we went for our walk.
But getting hugged? Nah. She was not into it. Better another belly rub.
Seawriter
When I took a road trip with my sister and her dog, “Mr. Baybuh” from NOLA to Florida, years ago, I thought it was so adorable, how affectionate Mr. B. was towards me – – leaning in from the backseat, nuzzling, nestling, pressing farther and farther forward for more fond attention . . . he just couldn’t seem to get enough of my hanging on his gorgeous neck.
And then, just as we cleared Slidell, he made his move, clambering right over into the passenger seat to settle in on top of me as if I wasn’t even there. He didn’t want hugs. He just wanted his rightful place, riding shotgun!
RIP, Mr. B. The coolest, orneriest, most Mardi Gras King of Dog I’ve ever known.
It goes without saying that this not-hugging-dogs thing should also apply to children.
In a few days, this adorable puppy will become the newest member of the Carter family. She’s a rescue puppy, the dog adoption people having retrieved her just before she was to be euthanized at the shelter. A Beagle / Grand Pyrenees mix, she’s calm, already partially trained at just 16 weeks, and by the time I’m done with her, she’ll be reading Solzhenitsyn. And besides, she looks like she could use a hug, doesn’t she?
I have had 17 dogs . Some liked hugs, some didn’t. My son’s dog sleeps under the covers with him with her head on the same pillow.
My older dog hugs me all the time. Whenever I come home I kneel down and she jumps up with her paws on my shoulders, tail wagging, as we spend several seconds in an interspecies embrace. Part of the daily routine.
My younger dog, not so much. When I’ve tried to hug her she squirms away because she wants to run around; she can’t stand holding still long enough to do it.
Come to think of it, as a human, I typically don’t like being hugged by other humans. I mean, it’s fine, but I never initiate a hug, and respond in a delayed and stiff manner if someone approaches me with arms outstretched. Just not natural to me. Much prefer the dog.
Science be damned.
We have a Golden and an Aussie. I’d say I side with you, Rob, against the Times — a former newspaper. But, I’ll nonetheless keep my eyes peeled for a few days for amplexical reticence in my canines.
Awwww….
In the original Russian!
You really should make sure small children never hug a dog they don’t know very well…even if it’s a dog that belongs to someone you know and is not aggressive. Even a good dog can be triggered by that and the child could be bitten.
Yes indeedy!!!!
I still remember when I was at a neighborhood association meeting. Some young woman about twenty years of age brought her very big dog and was hugging on it. An older lady decided to give her a piece of her mind and explained how the younger woman was “hurting the dogs self esteem.” Then suggested some dog etiquette rules the association needed to vote in. It was the last neighborhood association meeting I have ever went to. Those folk are nuts.
Chili gets hugged whether she likes it or not.
It’s not about whether they enjoy being hugged. For many dogs, being hugged is their job. That’s why we have them; God knows they’re not good for anything else.
Currently have two Mexican Street pups that adopted this old soul. The Lab gets into bed then snuggles and huggs me, the now full sized Wirehair Terrier plops hisself across my neck. Not for long , thankfully.
Long ago, when in the States had a huge male German S. that loved to snuggle and hug with both with the adults and kids. Not so much with either the Milkman or Mailman who often grew pale at the sound of the beast. Heck Yes, if the critters hug you, be gratefull –
Chloe doesn’t seem to mind hugs at all:
Hug me! No, hug me! Me, first.
Our dear old Jed died many years ago, and since then we’ve both worked all day. It just isn’t fair to a dog to be home alone. So, when we retire (in a couple of years) we’re going to get another dog. Golden retrievers are simply awesome. They will put up with anything…even hugging.The fellow hugging Jed is now a sonar tech on a boomer submarine. But he’ll always be my little boy.
This is the best thread we’ve had all week.
My daughter’s new Golden and her cat:
Gwyneth is always ready for a hug, or a belly scritching, or a chewie, or anything. Perfect creature of God. Love incarnate.
Our almost 3 year old mixed rescue, Banjo, isn’t happy unless he’s draped across me or my husband.
Our sorely missed Wee Laddie was the same but now we have 2 laps and only one doggie.