Ricochet is the best place on the internet to discuss the issues of the day, either through commenting on posts or writing your own for our active and dynamic community in a fully moderated environment. In addition, the Ricochet Audio Network offers over 50 original podcasts with new episodes released every day.
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
Please, sir, can I have some more!
This the latest addition to my pack. She is unquestionably huggable and has no problem being hugged. Of course, when she reaches her 80 pound adult weight she will no longer be sitting on my lap as I hug her.
So, having grown up on a dairy farm, where breeding and genetics was an important part of cow life, I have one question…how the heck does a Chihuahua and a Labrador reproduce?? (And either name is simply wonderful!)
I’m seeing some beautiful, very well-behaved dogs here. I created a monster. Likes to dig, eat unattended food, and chew on ballpoint pens. And hugs!
The 80 pound dog of some friends of ours never figured out that he wasn’t a lap dog. He also never figured out he no longer really fit under the coffee table. One of the most adorable dogs ever (and I’m not a dog person).
Her two older sisters are both over 100 pounds and still think they are lap dogs, one 13 the other nearly 3 years old.
But please no more peas!
I will agree that some dogs aren’t huggable. I wouldn’t advise anyone to try and hug my sister’s German Shepherd.
This is our 90 lb chocolate lab, Ankha. He loves hugs, stealing pillows and sock monkeys, and eating bananas. He’s afraid of the cat and swimming in deep water.
I’m trying to talk my hubby into getting another one.
And, I just realized that this reads like a puppy dating ad. ;)
Actually, all three of my labs love peas. They get a bowl full every night before their kibbles.
On the issue of hugs, I think that a lot of it has to do with how a pup is raised. Most of my dogs have been brought from breeders as soon as they were weaned. They were then hand reared, hugged and held a lot in their early puppyhood. I believe that they learn to associate hugging with safety, just as a young child associates a parent’s hugs with safety. My three year old comes running to me for reassurance whenever she gets hurt by the new pup whose needle teeth are vicious tools. She puts her front paws on my laps and wants to be hugged.
As someone with three labradors, I can tell you that having more than one is really great. They get along amazingly. The affection between them is wonderful to watch. When I introduced my new puppy to the two older dogs, both females, the younger of the two who came from the same breeder became an immediate surrogate parent. She plays with the pup constantly, loves her, takes her into the backyard and has been largely responsible for housebreaking her. The older dog was more standoffish and took about a week to warm up to the pup. This was mostly to establish the rules for the puppy. They are now nearly inseparable. She had raised the middle child when I brought her home, and had done an amazing job.
These are wonderful creatures who can teach us a great deal about unconditional love.
I guess the picture took up the word limit. My two boys Rupert and Nico. They both like hugs.
Maggie, Hank, and Charlie. All terriers and all love hugs. Charlie, the Wheaton Terrier, is terrified of iPhone beeps (and especially the beep emitted by a smoke detector that needs a new battery). When he hears them, he crawls of my wife’s lap seeking comfort.
Howie doesn’t mind a hug, but he usually has ulterior motives that involve hair-sniffing and ear-licking! He’s always down to cuddle though. Especially if it means passive-aggressively keeping me from going out the door.
Ah, Peanut Butter. Always good to the last molecule.
Equal time!! This is Edie (which is short for Edith Ann Furpopple). She is 100% pro-hug.
My dog will insert himself into almost any situation to get hugged, and we know he likes it because his tail thumps louder with every additional embrace. Here is Shiloh hoping for the next hug.
I sort of expected this dog to have a coffee mug in front of his snout.
That was the hardest day of my life, honestly, when I said good-bye to Cohiba, on St. Patrick’s Day 2006.
Hit post too fast: Hope you’re doing well. There is a lovely poem by Robinson Jeffers, called “The House Dog’s Grave” which I honestly can’t read without getting blubbery, but it says a lot:
The House Dog’s Grave (Haig, an English bulldog)
I’ve changed my ways a little; I cannot now
Run with you in the evenings along the shore,
Except in a kind of dream; and you, if you dream a moment,
You see me there.
So leave awhile the paw-marks on the front door
Where I used to scratch to go out or in,
And you’d soon open; leave on the kitchen floor
The marks of my drinking-pan.
I cannot lie by your fire as I used to do
On the warm stone,
Nor at the foot of your bed; no, all the night through
I lie alone.
But your kind thought has laid me less than six feet
Outside your window where firelight so often plays,
And where you sit to read–and I fear often grieving for me–
Every night your lamplight lies on my place.
You, man and woman, live so long, it is hard
To think of you ever dying
A little dog would get tired, living so long.
I hope than when you are lying
Under the ground like me your lives will appear
As good and joyful as mine.
No, dear, that’s too much hope: you are not so well cared for
As I have been.
And never have known the passionate undivided
Fidelities that I knew.
Your minds are perhaps too active, too many-sided. . . .
But to me you were true.
You were never masters, but friends. I was your friend.
I loved you well, and was loved. Deep love endures
To the end and far past the end. If this is my end,
I am not lonely. I am not afraid. I am still yours.
Robinson Jeffers, 1941
Welcome! And this is what it took? After my zillions of member pitches?
Behold the Power of Dogs!
Hugs are fine. Treats are finer.
There’s a happy dog looking for somebody to drop something :)
I haven’t a dog pic to share but it shouldn’t be lost on the readers that the Times is suggesting a particular mammal be treated based not upon it’s disposition, but rather it’s design.
This is Archimedes, Archie for short. The first pic is him when he was younger, he’s five now, but he has always been a chow hound. He is a schnoodle.
Have you considered the possibility your dog is just an adrenaline junkie?