Infopet || Advice: Dogs: Learning from Dogs and Wolves

Learning from Dogs and Wolves

Canela had a lovely temperament, though her squashed in peke noser
gave her breathing trouble. She came on walks with us, and learnt a bit of sit
stay and retrieving, just by copying my dogs. She disappeared one day,
probably stolen because she was cute.

Wolves, Dogs and Humans

Watching wild wolves on TV or in real life is fascinating, because wolves are so like dogs, in their body language and appearance, yet they are clearly wild animals. Wolves resemble dogs because today's dogs and wolves had common ancestors. Dogs have grown to be different from wolves, so it's worth looking at some of the differences as well as the similarities, especially because many people like explaining dog behaviour in terms of wolves.

Both dogs and wolves are social animals which survive through co-operation. Wolves co-operate in hunting, and in helping raise the pups in the pack. Dogs have been extremely successful as a species, more so than wolves, through learning to co-operate with humans.

A key difference lies in how wolves and dogs relate to humans. Dogs have a built-in potential ability to bond with humans, an interest in human language, and a desire to do things with us. Wolves don't have this ability, interest or desire. Wolves raised from puppyhood with humans may be friendly, but prefer the company of other wolves. Wolves will only accept the company of humans if they have met them during a short sensitive period in puppyhood. Dogs also need to meet humans during their sensitive period, or they are unable to bond with us. However, the 'window of opportunity' for dogs is longer, and exposure to humans has a stronger effect.

Dogs, then, are primed to accept humans as animals they want to be with. Pups want to be with humans more than with other dogs, except their mothers, while wolves don't have this preference for humans. Dogs can be trained to stop doing something when we ask them to. Wolves can't. Dogs have a 'switch', which if turned on in puppyhood means that we can carry out co-operative activities with them. We are in a good position to lead dogs, even though we are different species, and even if we are not especially physically strong. Both wolves and dogs are sensitive to hierarchies, but this works in different ways. Wild wolves attaining maturity may try to 'take out' the leader of the pack if the leader falls ill or is wounded. In contrast, dogs will accept leadership from people who are in wheelchairs or who limp, and can be worried and also attentive when their humans fall ill.

Dogs of course, sometimes prefer to do things with each other, like play chase games, rather than doing what we want, like coming to us when called. However, dogs generally come back of their own accord after the chase game has ended. Dogs aren't always attentive or polite with their humans. Some dogs may growl at their owners to retain a resource, or protect themselves. There are people who see this growling as the dog wanting to be 'dominant', as if the dog were wanting to move up the social scale in the same way a wolf might. Is this the case?

Curiously it's the smallest of my dogs who tends to growl at the others, to warn them off when she has a bone or food. She growls so often that she is nicknamed 'Grumblebucket'. The others politely ignore her, and leave her in peace. The most obviously dominant dog doesn't need to growl. The weaker dog is more under threat. Wanting to hang onto your dinner or a resting place is not the same as wanting to be dominant. It perhaps comes from an inbuilt desire to retain what's important for survival. 'Grumblebucket' has always lived with bigger dogs, and she creates her own space by growling.

Humans are generally bigger than dogs, and are often far more intrusive with dogs than one dog would be with another, or than a dominant wolf would be with a subordinate. One wolf doesn't pick up another to cuddle it, as humans often do with small dogs, regardless of whether or not the dog wants a cuddle. Dominant wolves don't usually pull subordinates from resting places to get them to move, unless a mother is moving small cubs. Usually, either the subordinate wolf moves of its own accord or is left in peace. Dominant wolves don't usually try to take away meat that a subordinate is busy eating, though the subordinate wolf may back away of its own accord as a dominant wolf approaches. Wolves may 'steal', or take meat from another wolf, but they usually wait until the other wolf is distracted. Wolves often respect each other more than humans do dogs, and they can use techniques to avoid conflict that humans could learn from.

Humans, of course don't like being growled at. 'Grumblebucket', aka Tilly, has never growled at humans, just other dogs. She's never bitten another dog, except her brother in play. She is not built for fighting, her growling is all bluff. The situation has never escalated because Tilly doesn't want it to, though this is not true of all dogs that growl.

Sometimes dogs and humans co-exist in a similarly stable situation, with the dog growling when it wants to be left alone, and the humans getting the message. Is growling inbuilt in some dogs, or encouraged by human behaviour towards the dog? Probably a bit of both. There's a household of 'serial growlees' in the village where I live in Spain. Their last three dogs have all growled at them. They are atypical for villagers, in that they cossett their dogs. Their current dog is quite pushy and confident. If he has something the humans want to take from him, he growls, and they back off. Their previous dog lived to be sixteen, growled to be left alone, and the growling never escalated. That is successful ownership of a sort.

What surprised me was their description of a third dog, Curro, who not only growled, but bit. This dog was a peke-fox terrier cross, and slept between two adult human sisters, nipping their legs if they dared move in their sleep. 'So we learnt to move carefully when we were asleep'. When an aunt was ill with cancer, the dog tried to prevent the nurse and doctor from entering the sick room. The dog also controlled the kids by growling at them.

Now you could put Tilly at the bottom of the growling scale. She never growls at humans, and flips over onto her back in submission if a dog calls her bluff. She grovels and even flips onto her back if I sound the tiniest bit cross with her. It's very effective. It is totally disarming, she knows how to control me, but she also gives me space to be a leader. Curro, however, was something of a back-seat driver, a dog who wanted to control, but not to 'lead the pack'. All he was interested in was his own comfort and safety. You have to tell that sort of dog to give you the space you need to be a leader.

The family has two noticeable characteristics, extreme dedication to their dogs, and a dislike of confrontation, which is unusual here. Villagers usually like to express their opinions forcefully, and tend to be less tolerant of pets. Something about their dog-owning style gave space for the growling, but the variations in the dogs showed that the inbuilt potential of the dog was also important. Curro sounds like he was quite a handful, and not the best sort of dog for them. A dog like Tilly would have suited them better. All the same they persisted, and co-existed with all three dogs without the situation escalating, once it had got to a certain level.

Coexisting in a stable situation with a growler is probably better than clumsy attempts to force the issue, that end up with the human getting seriously bitten. But we'd prefer dogs to defer automatically, of their own accord, to give up resources on command. Now subordinate wolves are often related to the dominant wolves. There's good communication and some trust between, say, nephew and auntie. We aren't related to our dogs, and aren't even of the same species, so we have to work harder at developing communication and trust.

Trainers do this in many ways, like teaching dogs to leave food items before they gain possession of them, rather than taking food away from them, teaching them to relinquish socks and other items willingly, and teaching them to get off furniture on command. That's teaching the dog to defer and use self-control, while maintaining trust. The dog is in a subordinate position whether or not he growls, but a dog that defers willingly is a happier subordinate and easier to live with than a dog that growls.

Building trust also means learning what the dog likes and doesn't like. We sometimes assume that dogs always want to be petted, then are surprised when a dog growls. After all, there's a cultural myth that dogs should show unconditional love. So dogs should accept being fussed over and petted at all times, and should reward us by looking adoring and cute. If a dog finds this a bit much to cope with, obviously the human needs to be less pushy. It also means learning what makes the dog calm and what gets him overexcited. The best way to do this is to learn from the dog.

Fussing dogs can make them feel threatened. It can also embolden them with an inflated sense of their own importance. Dogs can get seriously wound up, which is not good for their learning self-control. When a dog starts to growl at a human, it's a message to the human to think hard about what every single interaction is teaching the dog, and eliminate any action that promotes bad behaviour, focusing on what promotes good behaviour and fosters trust. The dog needs to be able to trust the human as a leader, so the leader has to be trustworthy. We live in a world dominated by humans, dogs can have no understanding of what leading a human-dog household involves. We have to teach them how they can fit into the human world.

Some people argue that we are like apes, and dogs are like wolves, and that is where the communication problems arise, but I'm not so sure. Checking my dogs for ticks in late spring, I feel very much like a chimp checking another for fleas, and I know I'm doing the dogs a favour. I've seen hunting dogs never checked for ticks, with their ears and necks covered in them. Hunting dogs here are often afflicted by ticks, which can kill them if untreated. Early dogs suffered from ticks too. Before we had spot-on treatments, it was humans who kept the dogs safe. And we can scratch dogs on bits they can't reach. That is something my dogs really appreciate, especially when it's hot. The ape-wolf partnership seems pretty cool from the point of view of dogs. No, the problem isn't so much that we are sort-of apes, but that we are human, and we get carried away by human cultural myths. Like that dogs are a kind of magical plush toy that gives you unconditional love
whatever you do to it. You can pick it up on a whim, do anything to it, and it will just love you for it.

Human behaviour towards dogs is affected by cultural beliefs about how dogs should be treated. Fussing dogs is a very 'Anglo' vice. I first realised this by noticing how much better behaved my dogs were with Spanish visitors, who greeted them and then ignored them. The dogs just settled quietly. Spaniards are much less likely to try to greet every strange dog they meet. In the Spanish village where I live, people sometimes tell me that British people have it wrong, because we fuss dogs and neglect our children. Village children have a lot of fuss made of them. Some people here say that it is immoral to allow a dog to live in the house. The villagers are very houseproud. There are people here with pampered dogs, like the 'serial growlees', but on the whole dogs are fussed much less than in Britain.

Most villagers argue that dogs are dogs, and should know their place. All the same, they sometimes credit dogs with human powers of reason, especially when it comes to 'teaching them right from wrong'. Pet dog owners here don't usually beat their dogs, though they may sometimes hit them with irritation. However, guard dog owners do often consider it right to beat dogs. One owner told me how his mastiff and German shepherd bitches fought. He beat them, to teach them they shouldn't fight. The mastiff later went for him in an 'unprovoked attack', so she was put down. But dogs have different values, and the beating happened a little after the fight, so the bitch probably had no idea of why she was being beaten. A beating can destroy trust. Guard dogs have very little contact with their owners, so there was probably little trust to start with.

Anglo dog culture is very much affected by fashions. When dog people first started studying wolves seriously, there was a kind of 'drunkeness of ideas', a fashion for seeing many normal canine behaviours as bids for dominance. Owners started to sit in their dogs' baskets, or eat ostentatiously before the dogs, in order to assert owner-dominance. As people started to point out, once sobriety set in, dogs are aware that we are not dogs, so don't interpret all our actions in the same way as they would if we were dogs.

You might imagine the dogs reacting to our strange behaviour by shrugging and saying to one another 'You can tell what old Fred has been reading'. Then all of a sudden the owner's behaviour changes, the dogs are no longer scolded for fun games like spreading the laundry on the kitchen floor, it's all rewards. The dogs shrug again and say 'Ah, Fred's discovered Karen Pryor's 'Don't Shoot the Dog'. But of course, dogs don't think like humans, they don't know the potential of books to persuade us to behave in peculiar ways, they just judge us by our behaviour. If we veer from one extreme to another, that can make us a bit scarily unpredictable and difficult to understand. When we change the rules, the dogs no longer know what they are meant to be doing, and that uncertainty in itself may be a reason for wary growling.

Dogs don't think like humans, but neither do they think like wolves. As dogs develop a relationship of trust, they can come to care whether we are happy or unhappy about what they are doing. Wolves aren't too fussed, they don't bond with us in the same way, they care more about whether or not we are a threat to them. So you can say to a dog, but not a wolf, 'I love you lots, but I'd really rather you didn't do that'. A dog will sometimes ignore you, but if you have a good relationship with him, a dog is capable of listening, and refraining from doing whatever you have asked him not to do. Obviously it helps if you suggest an alternative activity, rather than just saying 'don't do that'. Obviously it takes time to develop such a relationship, but it is possible with a dog, in a way that is not possible with wolves.

Likewise, dogs are capable of understanding the whole of a complex task, and working out some of the details of how to achieve it themselves. Wolves don't have such a desire to co-operate on complex tasks with humans. Perhaps 'Don't Shoot the Dog' was more applicable to wolves than to dogs, because our relationship with dogs is far more complex that that between a human and a wild animal.

The written word tells us what other people have learnt, or think they have learnt. Sometimes it's helpful, other times it's not helpful, or relevant to the dog in front of us. If the dog in front of us tells us something different, then the dog deserves to be listened to.

My youngest dog, Toby, was a stray before he came to live with me. Before that, he had been a stockyard hunting dog, rather than a house dog. The first time I ate in front of him, he jumped on the table and tried to eat my dinner. This was kind of rude, but by no means a bid for dominance. Tobe simply wasn't used to watching humans eat meals. Food to him meant competing with larger dogs. It meant 'get in there fast and eat what you can because soon there will be nothing left'. I put food down, no other dog wanted it, so obviously it was his, never mind it was on the table, not the floor. For Tobe, a table was an interesting place to jump on, while my other dogs, brought up in houses from puppyhood, respected tables as 'human space'.

Now Tobe is a pushy dog, but it just took a very weak water pistol to persuade him to let me eat in peace. A wolf probably wouldn't have accepted that, but then wolves don't have Toby's strong desire to be with a human. Toby loves retrieving with me. He loves to snuggle next to me on cold winter nights. This is an ex-stray with very little contact with humans for much of his early life. Not surprisingly, his manners still leave a lot to be desired, because he wasn't taught good manners from puppyhood, but he is very bonded.

Tobe isn't the only dog who has tried to eat off my plate. A bitch I used to look after also did this at first, even trying to take food as it went from fork to mouth. I learnt she was always fed from her owner's plate when he ate in a chair next to her. He fed her with his fork. She was saying to me 'Hey, isn't that my bit?'. So what's sometimes called 'dominance' may simply be bad manners.

Toby arrived with some skills, such as the ability to be polite with cats. He is also a natural retriever, and his body language is submissive when he sits for a retrieve. It's almost 'OK, I'm doing what you asked, now please throw it'. Working on this with him has helped a lot in teaching him to do what I ask, and trust me more. He initially didn't use eye contact, but that has changed.

Manners are learnt, or not learnt, from those around us. One young dog I watched bullying his siblings and smaller mother was something of a brat. He didn't want to 'lead the pack' so much as play chase all the time, whether or not the others wanted to. He could get away with it because of his size, which meant the other dogs couldn't put a check on him. Half an hour later I saw him with a different group of dogs, bigger than him and well behaved, and he was polite as pie.

A wolf that climbs up the hierarchy can aspire to lead the pack. A dog can't. The best a dog can aspire to is to be the right-hand dog, a partner the human listens to and respects. Some dogs grasp this easily. Others need to have it explained to them.

So dogs aren't quite designer wolves, there's something inside them that we can build on, to develop a relationship of trust that allows us to teach them to be polite, and fulfil their potential for co-operation with humans. That something is their desire to do things with us, especially go for walks together. Walks are the backbone of training, the most basic activity we can do together, and they help dogs to learn rules about how to behave in public, rules they need to know to survive.

Training is about more than teaching commands, then using them to get dogs to stop doing things, like hogging the couch. It's also about helping dogs learn how to share activities with us. When obeying commands means that dogs get to do things that they like doing, a lot more falls into place. Dog and owner start to trust each other more, and our bonds become stronger.

Some dogs bond more easily with humans than others, some are more biddable, or have naturally better manners, but most dogs have a potential for co-operation. So a key lesson that wolves can teach us is to respect their differences from dogs, to respect wolves as wild animals, and to respect dogs for their potential ability to work with us.

Odin has one eye, one ear and one testicle, and is a highly
successful street dog, who has fathered many litters.
He sleeps in a human bedroom and is a source of warmth in winter.

The World of the Senses

Wolves have more acute hearing than dogs, and their sense of smell also works better. All the same, dogs' abilities are far superior to ours. My husband's favourite dog could tell when he was coming home by the sound of his car, when he drove into the car park by the house. Humans need machines to tell the sound of one car from several similar ones. Or a dog.

It's no wonder that dogs can find traffic sounds overwhelming, when their hearing is so sensitive. We aren't as overwhelmed by sounds, we also know that traffic is fairly predictable. An untrained dog doesn't, and may see danger everywhere. Humans can teach dogs some of the rules, like stopping at zebra crossings, and waiting for traffic to stop.

Dogs tell us a lot about what they hear, like a cat in the garden, or a dog going past outside. Way back, this was useful. Dogs would warn humans of approaching wolves, or other humans. They were our ears. Today we often find it less useful. But curiously, one of the most effective ways of getting a dog to stop barking is to say 'thank you for telling me'. Once the dog knows you've heard and understood, there's no need to bark any more.

Wolves don't bark, nor do strays. Barking is one way dogs communicate with us. Wolves don't have as strong a desire to communicate with humans, while strays have no human to talk to. Some dogs have a wide vocal range and are very expressive. Dogs try to tell us what they want or what's happening in other ways, like nudges, pawing, or standing by the door, leash in mouth. Sometimes in a wild wolf pack, a youngster will spot danger, or potential prey, and communicate this to the others. So in this sense, a dog is behaving like a wolf. Both are primed to communicate, it's just that dogs have learnt how to communicate with humans.

Now the first step in a dialogue is for each partner to listen to the other. If neither listens, what you have are two monologues, for example, dog says 'Take me out now', and human says 'Shut that godawful racket'. Neither wants to listen to the other. The next stage is when each puts an effort into understanding and responding to what the other is trying to say. Then a real dialogue can begin.

Understanding what is in another animal's head is not easy, even when we are of the same species. We can't fully know what dogs know, nor can they fully know what we know, all we can do is get better at guessing. The human sense of smell is almost non-existent compared with that of a dog, and likewise, our hearing is very poor. We often have no idea of what dogs are smelling or hearing. So how do they know what to tell us, and can they work out what we already know?

Obviously dogs can't always tell what we know and don't know, they'll tell us about events that we can clearly see, hear and sometimes even smell. But dogs that have worked in a partnership with a human for a long time do seem to work out some areas of their human's ignorance. This may be because the dogs are rewarded with more effusive praise for communicating information that only the dog knows.

Learning to communicate takes time. One of my dogs learnt very quickly to search for another, a bitch, on command, which was especially useful at night. What took longer was for him to learn to tell me when he'd found her. It was kind of 'I've done what you asked, now I'm going to sniff for rabbits' without mentioning 'oh, and by the way, she's here'. He didn't know that, as it was night time, and human senses are poor, I couldn't see, hear or smell her, even though she was close by.

Humans and dogs become a team when they work together in this way. The dog follows a scent that we can't smell, just as dogs can provide eyes for blind people. The handler asks the dog to find something, the dog understands, and works out the details, taking the lead as to which direction to follow. Overall, the human is leader. The dog has to obey on basic issues, like respecting passers-by, or no fighting with other dogs in the house, but on these complex tasks, leadership is alternated. The human has to pay attention to the dog, as well as expecting the dog to pay attention. Teaching dogs to share activities that involve two-way communication, teaching them skills, is often a lesson in manners for humans.

Canela and Caro, boxer-pit-bull cross. He gets so many meaty bones
it's no big deal to let Canela eat one of his. He lives in a yard - few bigger
dogs live in houses in the village.

Wolves, Dogs and 'Packs'

A wild wolf pack is a group of wolves that has chosen to live and travel together as a group. The pack hunts and raises young together. Pack members are usually, but not always related. Packs tend to avoid each other, and fighting can be fierce if members of different packs meet. Dogs living together with humans are usually fed by the human, and go for walks together, rather than hunting together. They are less likely to be raising young, and there are more likely to be oldsters around. The dogs may or may not be related, and they are expected to tolerate dogs from other households that they meet on walks. So dogs that live together aren't quite like wild wolf packs, and if you include the human, they are different in that the humans and dogs are not only unrelated, but of a different species.

Now, some people like to refer to the dogs in their household as a 'pack', and may extend this to include the human members of the household. Other people see the term 'pack' as very unhelpful when applied to dogs. This difference of opinion often reflects how far their dogs resemble a wild wolf pack.

People who like the term 'pack' often point to the ability of wolves both to co-operate, and to resolve their differences by respecting a pecking order. When two wolves want something, if one wolf agrees to give way, there is harmony. A clear hierarchy means that a lower ranking wolf is more willing to give way. Cub 'naughtiness' may initially be tolerated, but as they grow older, youngsters are taught to respect the pecking order by being disciplined. Youngsters also learn manners and skills from the older wolves, from their aunties and uncles as well as their parents.

Likewise, in some households, the dogs have a clear pecking order, and this can help to keep the peace. The way these dogs resolve differences is similar to the way wolf packs do. In fact groups of dogs in some households are more peaceful than wolf packs, partly because the dogs don't need to compete for food or a mate. If there is just one breeding female, the fittest and strongest, this fits with the natural order of things. Harmony is also enhanced if the dogs carry out co-operative activities together, or even just walk together as a group with their owner.

Some groups of dogs, then, are happily self-regulating, the dogs live quite peacefully with little need for intervention from humans. They may have a hierarchy, though some easy-going dogs can share resources, or alternate, and live happily without any clear hierarchy.

The groups of dogs we live with have been assembled by humans. The dogs have not chosen to live together. Put a group of unrelated wolves together in captivity, and they are much more likely to fight than are wolves in the wild, which may be related, and can leave if they don't want to be part of the group. Unrelated captive wolves are also much more likely to fight than are unrelated dogs. However it's difficult to generalise about groups of dogs, because some are much more peaceful than others.

There is a lot more variety among dogs than among wolves, both in size and general appearance, and in character, or temperament. Even dogs from the same litter can vary a lot. A youngster may be especially pushy and quarrelsome. An oldster may simply not want to have to cope with a pup. The whole group may be composed of quarrelsome individuals. Where there is more potential for disagreement, humans need to intervene more in order to keep the peace. There may be a clear hierarchy, there may not, but if there is one, it may not help to keep the peace. That is one reason why many people don't like to use the term 'pack', and argue that there is only one key position in their household, their own position as leader, or 'alpha'.

My own three dogs behave in some ways like a pack, in others not. Some years back, there was Rug, Tilly and Conor. Rug was a Keeshond-border collie cross, about twice as big as Tilly, a fair bit bigger than Conor, and he was their uncle. They are littermates with two more breeds added, Cavalier King Charles and Japanese spitz. Overall, Rug was clearly 'top dog'. If he wanted something, he got it, but he wasn't fussed about a lot of things. Tilly was keener on chews, and if both approached a chew, Rug generally let her have it. Tilly has always been very keen on food. Sometimes she would sit by and guard a recently arrived sack of kibble, warning the other dogs off, immediately backing away when I came to move it.

So, because Tilly valued food and chews, she often monopolised them. It was like 'OK, you want it more than I do'. None of the dogs took a bone that the other had a paw on, though Conor would sometimes lie by Rug and wait until he got bored and left the bone free. Then Conor would sneak the bone away and chew it himself. Conor especially valued lying on or by me. Rug usually liked lying in doorways. But sometimes Rug wanted to come up for a cuddle, and he would simply come up and lie down, whether or not Conor was underneath him. Conor sometimes objected, but Rug just ignored him. Again, Conor could hog the resource he valued, though he wasn't top dog, but he had to give way if the top dog decided it was his turn.

Tilly often initiated hunting forays, when we were on walks. Tilly had the best hearing of the three, so she would shoot off in pusuit of something before the others had heard it. Then they would follow. The same thing sometimes happens in wolf packs. A younger wolf spots a moose, goes off in pursuit, and the others follow. The dominant male has to decide whether to follow, or be left behind. Alternating leadership can happen with wolves too.

Tilly followed the pattern of subordinate wolves in grooming Rug. She took especial care over his eyes at a time when he had a condition the vet said was difficult to treat. After a while his eyes healed.

Major size differences between dogs affect how they relate to each other. Rug on walks had a sort of self-imposed taboo against fighting most small dogs, as he had with Conor, as though small dogs were pups. Likewise, he only played rough games with big dogs. He was sociable with most dogs, but disliked a few, and sometimes attracted attacks, always from males. Attacked by a dog his own size, he fought back. Attacked by small dogs, he just stood, as though embarrased. Conor on walks is sociable with all dogs except very big ones, which he relaxes with fast if they are walked together. He has never been attacked on walks.

Tilly on walks at first worried me. She ignores most dogs. She is friendly with a very few, and will scold dogs that are ill-mannered, irrespective of size. At first I thought she was lacking in social skills compared with Conor. He is every pup's favourite uncle, and plays with them all. Sometimes he encourages them to get wilder and wilder. Then I realised that it was Tilly who taught them manners. Just by threats, without making contact with her teeth, she tells them when they have gone too far, and they pay attention. She teaches self-control. Watching Tilly chastise a mastiff pup several times her size, you realise she is one savvy bitch. If a strange dog ever calls her bluff, she rolls on her back very fast, but that rarely happens, and a pup has never dared try it.

Today there are Tilly, Conor and Toby. Toby is a high-energy mutt, a little smaller than Conor. He was thrown out of a hunting stockyard for fighting with the other dogs. As a stray, he followed us on walks for a few days. When Toby first arrived here, he was underweight. He attempted to guard found 'food objects', like empty bread wrappers, mostly by snarling and biting my shoes, to no effect since he is not very big. At meal times, he backed off if Tilly or Conor approached his bowl. They were scolded for this, I supervised meals strictly, and he started to relax about food. Later I heard he had had to fight his previous owner's bigger dogs to be able to eat. He had faced tougher conditions than a wolf, which only has to compete with animals its own size. Toby, Tilly and Conor follow the same 'wolf rules' as before on bones, except now Toby is more likely to sneak Conor's bone away. But they are not like wolves in other ways, like their access to food.
They don't share a carcass that might last a long time, but have to eat their meals fast, and if another dog muscles in, they get nothing.

The few fights we had were brief, always between Conor and Toby, over 'ownerless' scraps of food they were both close to, or when Toby was emboldened by lying on my lap, and attacked Conor if he approached. I took more care over food, and Toby's lap time was reduced. I also taught Conor to back off from Toby's provocations by getting cross with them both if they fought. They learnt to share a sofa together. My mistakes triggered those early fights. A lot of fighting between dogs in the same household is triggered by humans. Dogs especially value three resources, food, chew items, and access to the owner, and if owners don't make it clear who is meant to have what, the dogs may fight to sort it out.

Life with Toby was peaceful, until I went away for ten days, forgetting to give strict instructions for the dogs' meals to be supervised. On my return, Toby looked underweight again, and had reverted to his earlier aggression with me over food. He had also started fighting back if another dog went anywhere near his bowl. His aggression lasted a few days, and since then, 18 months ago, we have enjoyed peace.

Some of this can be explained in terms of wolf behaviour, but much of it can't. Conor, for example, is far more peaceful than most wolves, and far more trusting with me than one wolf would be of another, except a cub with an adult. Conor has learnt to defer to me, and let me sort Toby out. He has helped me to civilise Toby. Conor's relaxed attitude to strange dogs means that he has been able to teach Toby to be far more relaxed and sociable when we meet dogs on walks.

The written word may tell you one thing, and your dogs another. If in doubt, believe your dogs. If your dogs behave in many ways like a wolf pack, that may be a useful way of understanding them. If they don't, some insights from wolf packs may help, like why two bitches in season may not get on, or that it can help to involve dogs in co-operative activities. On the other hand, you may have two easy-going bitches which tolerate each other in season. And if you have an arthritic oldster, and a boisterous pup, it may be best just to make sure the oldster gets enough well-deserved peace and quiet.

Wolves too don't always behave according to the 'ideal model' of the alpha pair and their offspring. Sometimes packs are much larger, with a complicated social structure. However, we've hunted, trapped and poisoned them, encroached on their habitats, and not given them much space for 'being natural'. Wolf packs tend to be smaller and comprised of younger animals when wolves are under a lot of pressure from hunters. When humans kill alpha wolves, they leave inexperienced, less savvy wolves in charge. Members of decimated packs may regroup with unrelated wolves. Humans have been hunting wolves for a long time, so we have affected their evolution, especially as the human population increased and armed itself with guns. Today's wolves have less genetic diversity, and are probably much warier than their ancestors, from which dogs came. Wolves, then can help us understand how some dogs and humans live harmonious lives within a household. However, studying wolf
packs only gives a very partial understanding of the social lives of dogs and how they fit with humans.

Groups and Outsiders

So, dogs are pack animals but not in quite the same way as wild wolves are. This is just as well, because we expect more of dogs than is possible with wolves. We want dogs to behave well with people and their dogs from other households. The fact that dogs can achieve this, usually after some socialising and training, shows that dogs are much more versatile than wolves. Well-trained dogs may not be especially friendly with passing humans and their dogs, but they are polite. Politeness is the goal. After all, not all passing humans want a friendly greeting from a dog.

Dogs are more versatile than wolves, then, but what about dogs who are extremely rude to strange dogs? One way of understanding this is to look at humans. We are also group animals. We like being members of groups, and doing things together. Sometimes we are rude to people from other groups. People from one football team enjoy being rude to people from another. Look at 'fence fighting' on the internet, between groups of people with different views on dogs. We can enjoy fighting for fun, we're potentially quite versatile, and we can realise our potential with training, just like dogs.

Humans like to to believe that we are rational animals, or at least more rational than dogs. We may get a kick out of being rude, but that is just fun. If we are ever very unpleasant to someone, they usually deserve it. Or do they? When the 'fight' part of our brain is activated, other parts can shut down, like the ability to reason, or feel compassion, or connect to our 'conscience'. Playing dirty can feel justifiable if we're convinced we are right. This can take you places you really don't want to go, or wouldn't want to if you were able to reason at the time you went there. There are mass graves near the village where I live. Older people remember what happened after the occupying army arrived, from August until October 1936, the lust for killing those who weren't in your 'group'. The descendants of those who killed sometimes argue 'If they were shot it must have been for a reason'. After all, humans are rational. Others know that humans have a
potential for being irrational and unpleasant, as well as a potential for co-operation and kindness.

We are like dogs and wolves in that we like doing things in groups, we co-operate with members of our group, and we conform to group norms. We are affected by 'social contagion' as dogs are. One dog barks, and others bark too. One 'dog person' barks the name of a 'training guru' from another group, and others join in the barking. Two dogs in pursuit of a stranger can behave far worse than one plus one. They may do things that neither dog would do alone. The same thing can happen with humans. One human may have inhibitions that prevent them from going over a limit, but two or more people can egg each other on, and we think it's OK, because it feels OK.

Our 'groupishness' has its upside and its downside. We co-operate within the group, and we can egg each other on against outsiders. But 'social contagion' can be helpful, even when it comes to dealing with strangers. One dog can be a good influence on another. Conor has taught Toby to be more relaxed and more controlled with strange dogs. Conor is 'top dog', my right-hand dog, and that gives his behaviour more weight. It's not always the overall leader who arouses or inhibits a group, but the leader's example tends to be decisive, especially when it comes to calming a group. 'Social contagion' has helped to civilise Toby.

'Social contagion' was also helpful here back in July 1936, when rebel generals declared war in Spain. There was a month or so before this village was occupied. The mayor of the village kept his cool, and prevented killings of rebel supporters. He collected a group of six strong villagers, and told carloads of armed men that if they were going to kill anyone, they'd have to kill him first. Once the rebel army arrived, he was powerless, and was put in jail. But during a brief time, he taught people from one group to use self control, and to be civilised towards people from another, though they were under enormous pressure. He strengthened the ability of a group to use self-control, and that desire to be civilised was helped by 'social contagion' working in the right direction. He was a leader worth following.

Like dogs and wolves, humans are primed to accept leaders, including 'training gurus'. We learn the mantras, or cultural myths, that give groups their identities. It can feel good to be part of a group, though sometimes feeling good dampens down our ability to reason. It's easy to believe the guru, swallow another cultural myth, failing to observe what is actually happening among the dogs around us. Sometimes we walk happily up cultural blind alleys, because we are together, and we like being together. Social contagion makes us feel good. We can learn a lot from dogs. Dogs just are, they don't rationalise, the way that humans do, to justify irrational behaviour.

Humans develop rules of all kinds, including etiquette, to help us control our aggression. We try to teach kids to be polite. The Spanish word for teaching either a human or a dog to be polite and well-behaved is the same, 'educar'. It's both about learning rules within your group, and about getting to know and respecting people from other groups. Training makes a big difference in both species though the built-in potential for both types of behaviour is there, in some humans, and some dogs more than others.

Humans, like dogs, need socialisation. We can be suspicious of outsiders if we aren't used to contact with them. Dogs that live together in a household and rarely meet dogs from other households can be especially rude when they do encounter strange dogs. As we travel more, and get to know different people, we may learn to relax, and be more polite and tolerant, just as dogs can be socialised to learn how to behave with strange dogs.

Humans stand out in the animal kingdom as being able to co-operate with non-kin, with strangers. We aren't the only animals who can do this. African elephants' social life can be very complex. Humans, though, are much better than wolves at co-operating with outsiders, and we have taught dogs to be more like us, and less like their ancestors. But if we can't manage it all the time, it's a bit unrealistic to expect dogs to do so, and to love every other dog they meet in the park. A lot of 'dog aggression', when one dog fights a strange dog, is simply a result of unrealistic owner expectations. Dogs don't always want to 'play' with each other, and there is no reason why they should. If we sometimes think they should, it's because we are blinded by human cultural myths.

If we tap into our own feelings about strangers, it's easier to understand why one dog might be irritated by a strange dog. People in the village where I live don't expect all dogs to get on. Now that Tilly is older and a bit arthritic, I walk her in the village more, rather than on uneven land in the countryside. Sometimes she meets Coco, a rude Chihuahua-Yorkie cross. She scolds him if he is especially rude, and his owner tells him to respect Tilly because she is a lady. However, in this village there is a different cultural myth, that dogs always hate other dogs of the same sex. I tell people repeatedly that Conor likes most other dogs, while Tilly usually wants them to leave her in peace, regardless of whether they are male or female. The villagers tend to repeat themselves, not looking at what the dogs are actually doing. We are all blinded to some extent by our cultural myths.

So dogs do pretty well in the way they behave with strange dogs, considering that they are some way between us and wolves in terms of their inbuilt potential to cope with strangers. It helps to make reasonable demands of them, to ask them just to be polite, and focus on us. There are dogs who fight for fun, just as humans sometimes do. There are dogs who get a kick out of lungeing and barking at other dogs, but who stop short of serious fights. But very often 'dog-dog aggression' is caused by unrealistic owner expectations. It's easy to teach them to get wound up and get a kick out of 'seeing off' other dogs, by pushing them too far, rather than recognising when they are stressed, or likely to stress out other dogs, and teaching them how to be calmer.

How then, have wolves survived if one pack fights when it meets another, surely that can't help the survival of a species? Wolf packs in fact do try to avoid conflict with other packs. Wolves travel a lot, with different packs sometimes using the same paths. Packs will fight strangers if they meet, but usually try to avoid conflict by keeping out of each other's way, respecting each other's space. They will settle for a while to eat, and will defend a carcass, and also settle to breed. During this time they will defend the space where they have settled, but outside the breeding season, much of the time is spent travelling.

'Defending a territory', being aggressive with members of other groups that enter one's territory, is to some extent built into wolves, but so too is conflict avoidance. Likewise, two dogs may threaten each other if they are each on the leash and forced to be close to one other, but simply give each other a wide berth if they are off the leash. This is one reason why free-ranging and feral dogs can trot around peacefully without getting into fights, they can choose how close they are to other dogs. A leashed dog can't choose, and in any case is emboldened by the presence of its human. So we ask dogs to do a lot more than wolves, and interactions are more complicated in that two species are involved.

Defending territory is not the only reason for fights between wolf packs. Dominant males want to ensure that males from other packs don't move in on their females. Packs accept outsiders more easily when a dominant male dies. In areas where wolves are hunted or poisoned, this can happen a lot. So packs may include unrelated wolves, and females may lead packs.

Wolves, then can help us understand how dogs can avoid conflict with dogs from other households, as well as helping us to understand why conflict may occur, though dogs can be remarkably versatile compared with wolves. We can also learn a lot from wolves and dogs about how humans behave.

Courtship and Mating

Canine social life also includes courtship and mating, though this is greatly affected by dog cultures. In the US, there is a drive to neuter dogs of both sexes. In the UK, bitches are likely to be spayed, dogs more likely to be intact. In Norway, neutering of dogs of either sex is frowned on except for health reasons. But in all three countries, canine courtship and mating is very much affected by humans.

Tilly was spayed after her first season, at eight months. She is very cute and very sweet natured, but she is a second-generation accident, and a four-breed mix. There is no guarantee that her offspring would turn out as sweet as she is. Rug was intact, as are Conor and Toby. Many Americans, unused to entire male dogs, are surprised that they can get on well, but Conor got on well with Rug, and gets on well with Toby.

Rug and Conor didn't compete over Tilly. She wasn't a breeding female. Curiously, too, their tastes in bitches were very different. Rug was initially quite indiscriminate, as is sometimes the case with young human males. Then he developed a preference for certain bitches. The loves of his life included an Alaskan malamute, a Siberian husky, and a bitch which the owner claimed was a wolf hybrid; half timber wolf, a quarter Sibe, and a quarter German shepherd. We met sometimes during midnight dog walks after I had been working late. This was the most undoglike dog I have ever met, very serious and wary, so the owner may have been right. As the two went through their courtship dances, she suggested we allow them to mate. Rug was half collie and half spitz. The spitz predominated, and he was something of a handful, so I declined on his behalf.

You could tell when Rug was in love because he would do flirty mating dances with his favourite lady, and howl once he got home, refusing to eat, sometimes for a couple of days. He fell especially heavily when a bitch he normally got on with was in season. He was completely unaffected by Lulu, our neighbour's dog in Spain, when she went into season. She just wasn't his type. Lulu was a peke, and he never found her interesting.

Conor, in contrast, has never gone off his food, and rarely howls over a bitch. He did fancy Lulu, and he especially fancied her granddaughter, Canela, a peke mutt with some podenco, who looked like a small beardie with a squashed-in face. Conor likes the ladies, he just doesn't get as love-struck as Rug used to, even now that Conor is 'top dog'. Curiously, though Conor and Toby have similar tastes in bitches, they don't fight over them. Toby is indiscrimiante. He will pester bitches when they are spayed, or not in season. He just hasn't quite worked it out. Conor has. He was only seriously interested in Canela at the most fertile point of her season. When Conor's interest in Canela got serious, Toby deferred to Conor, by standing back. It became difficult to walk the dogs, with Canela following us around on walks, Conor and Toby leashed, Canela off-leash, presenting her rear end temptingly to them, so I asked Canela's owner to keep her safely shut up.

Most dogs, male and female are intact in this village. Villagers are not always careful about controlling bitches in season. Lulu was also sometimes loose when in season, and would attract up to five dogs at a time. Curiously, they snarled, but didn't fight over her. Somehow the dogs, or the dogs and Lulu, decided who had the right to mate with her. Sometimes Lulu and her admirers would block the street, and in my English way, I would pick Lulu up and take her to her home, to prevent her and an admirer or two being run over.

Another bitch that interested Conor and Toby was Juana, an English setter, named after 'Crazy Joan' a mad Spanish queen, because Juana was a bit loopy. She followed us whenever we met on walks, because she liked company. Before she was in season, Conor and Toby tried to avoid her or shoo her off, because she was large, and tried to play rough games with them, not knowing her own strength. Once she went into season, they welcomed her attentions. Juana, though, wasn't especially interested in more than flirting.

Canine courtship and mating is unlike that of wolves in that dogs don't usually live in family groups with a dominant male. There is also more open competition between males for the favours of free-ranging bitches than there is among wolves for the alpha female. 'Breed' differences between dogs can also affect whether they want to mate. Human intervention often affects whether dogs and bitches are able to mate with their choice of partner. There is a much wider range of behaviour in dogs than in wolves.

Canine evolution involved a change in courtship and mating behaviour, which was probably fostered by wolves eating our leftovers rather than hunting. They no longer needed to form a pack with one breeding female. The main point of the pack was to be able to hunt large prey co-operatively and to guard the kill together. Humans helped with providing food, and competing carnivores were less likely to approach a human-wolf camp than a group of wolves, or humans alone. Each species provided protection for the other.

With enough food, more wolves could breed. In a modern wolf pack, the dominant male tries to prevent other males from breeding, though this is not always successful. Dominant females harass subordinates which can lead them to delay their first season, their social status affecting their biology. Wolves in any case tend to come into season at an older age than dogs. Subordinate female wolves may be harrassed by dominant females when they do become fertile and try to mate, so rarely have cubs. If they do, the cubs have less chance of survival. Once wolves could obtain food from humans, the social organisation of wolves changed. More subordinate wolves had a chance to breed, and females were likely to come into season earlier. Earlier ovulation and more individuals being able to breed gave this new sort of wolf an evolutionary advantage over wolves that stayed independent of humans. Wolves could be more successful in the production of cubs per wolf, and could have more cubs in a lifetime, so long as there was enough food. As both species could co-operate on hunts, humans also gained an advantage.

Wolves that got to breed in a pack also tended to be those pushy enough to prevent others from breeding. Once wolves linked up with humans, and less aggressive wolves began to breed, the behaviour of the 'dog-wolves' towards each other would become more peaceful. Humans would have driven away individuals that were especially aggressive against humans. Early on some mutations could survive that would have disappeared in the wild. However, it was probably not until humans ceased to be nomads that major differentiations became possible. Humans could more easily breed dogs for different characteristics if they were separated from other dogs. The Romans already knew lap-dogs and hunting dogs. 'Breeds' already existed in the Ancient world, in the sense of dogs bred for a purpose.

'Breed' as a Social Construct

Dogs clearly recognise differences in the behaviour and appearance of different groups of dogs. They have different playstyles and body languages. Sighthounds, for example, often like mad dashes and chase games, and will play with other dogs that like those games. Rug may have attracted attacks because he was quite big, his long hair stood out, and his spitz tail was erect and curly. His body language was misread by some dogs. He was overjoyed when he met other spitzes, who 'spoke the same language', though he got on with a wide range of dogs. My mother's two dogs were largely border collie, and the only dogs they showed any desire to be with, when we were on walks, were other border collies.

'Breeds' in the sense we usually use the term today, are a recent invention. Working dogs in particular have been bred to be able to do a job, not for 'purity' or appearance. Shepherds keep and bred from dogs that work sheep welI. I once asked a Spanish shepherd what breed his dog was. 'A sheepdog', he answered. 'Yes, but what breed?' 'A dog that works sheep', he answered patiently.

Podencos are called 'the poor man's hunting dog'. They are sometimes described as all-purpose hunting dogs, mainly sighthound, though they also retrieve. There are long-haired and short-haired podencos, large, small and medium podencos. Villagers say that podencos are useful dogs, but not always good pets. They are high-energy, can be snappy, and may trash your house. The other popular hunting dog here is the Brittany, seen as 'noble', respecting the owner, and good both as a hunting dog and a pet. Brittanies are an internationally recognised breed, but 'podenco' here often means a hunting dog that vaguely fits a type, rather than a dog with a long pedigree. A big podenco, in local speech, is a big hunting dog, a small podenco is a small hunting dog. As they are often kept with Brittanies and greyhounds, there are quite a few crosses in the hunting stockyards.

Sheepdogs here are called 'carreas', unless they are an imported breed, like a collie, or a Basque sheepdog from the north. Carreas are usually shaggy haired dogs and vary in appearance. What they have in common is that they do their job well. They have certain behavioural characteristics in common. In contrast, local labradors may be goofy, or keen and focused hunters. There's more variety in the behaviour of a 'recognised breed', the labrador, than in the carrea, a 'breed' that isn't seen as a breed in kennel club terms. So 'breed' is a word that is used differently by different groups of people, and it doesn't always tell you much about the nature of the dog.

It was only from the 1960s that people in developed countries could afford to buy 'pure-bred' dogs en masse. Dogs became luxury consumer durables. 'Breed' was used like a brand name, a marketing device. Americans talk of 'pure-bred' dogs, and anything that is 'pure' of course has to be good. In Britain, we talk of 'pedigree' dogs, which are of course noble, like our nobility with their pedigrees. A 'pure-bred' or 'pedigree' can confer prestige on the owner. So too can looks, and for many people it's looks that count. I went with friends once to a bar in Spain with their recently acquired shelter mutt. The men in the bar were approving 'he looks like he cost a lot of money'. Another friend here who owns a bar acquired a pup which had lost an ear. Some of her clients offered to drown him on the grounds he was ugly, and give her a better looking pup. That pup, Odin, is now fifteen years old. As she wisely said at the time 'if he's ugly, he won't be
stolen', so he has survived as a free-ranging dog, while many cuter dogs, including Canela, have disappeared.

Novices may have little first-hand knowledge of the breeds they choose. Books on breeds are often written by breeders, and may read like advertising brochures. Novices can easily be mesmerised by the marketing hype, as well as the striking looks of some breeds.

Furthermore, the breeds themselves changed, once pups could easily be sold to undemanding consumers for a lot of money just because they were 'pure-bred'. Some breeders of what were working dogs created lines which were no longer fit for working. Breeders had little financial incentive to breed for good temperament, and sometimes bred from some very flakey dogs. This was especially true of popular and easy to sell breeds during the first rush towards 'pure-breds'. Golden retrievers began to appear that weren't the usual goofy, friendly dogs people were used to. Poor temperament is in some ways more of a problem in a breed that people generally think of as 'friendly', because the dog is more likely to be petted by a stranger. This of course makes a nonsense of legislation banning certain breeds. Effectively it means banning dogs with a certain appearance, because temperament varies so much within breeds.

It's only recently that there has been a strong campaign for breeders of pet dogs to place more importance on temperament. What used to count was winning a prize in a dog show, though all that prize-winning show dogs had going for them was looking like a judge's idea of what a breed should look like. The prioritising of looks affected much of the dog world through social contagion. We went up a cultural blind alley.

Change happens in different ways in diferent places. I've known this Spanish village since the late 1970s. Change came late here, because people were mostly very poor until quite recently. In the late 1970s, most house dogs were mutts, many were yellow dogs with some podenco, from stockyard matings. House dogs were usually free-ranging, they came and went as they pleased, so the dogs themselves chose who they bred with. House dogs were mostly small, but there were also large free-ranging yard dogs, like German shepherds. During the 1990s, people began to move to pure-bred pets in a big way. There was a fad for huskies, and you'd sometimes see a husky walking loose in the street. Very quickly, owners discovered that huskies don't make good pets. Today the most popular pet breeds here are very small dogs like Yorkies and Chihuahuas, though there are also pekes and fox terriers, and labradors kept beside houses, in yards.

The changes in this village have been more noticeable than in some villages nearby. Most of this village is on a hill, and houses are close together, with little space for a yard, patio or garden, so big dogs are usually kept outside the village. There's quite a lot of traffic, so life for a free-ranging dog can be dangerous. In nearby villages built on flatter land, people have bigger gardens with more space for dogs by the house. In those villages you still see many big dogs loose in the street, and in quieter villages with less traffic, they are fairly safe. I went for a walk round one such village with children, and saw a working collie, a German shepherd, a labrador-husky mix, two large abandoned hunting dogs, and a medium-sized dog with a collar with screws sticking out, to protect him from big dogs. There were no very small dogs. The kids were quite happy to be around big dogs with no owner in sight. Free-ranging dogs here are generally
well-behaved, and mind their own business. Kids know better than to pet strange dogs.

Today, there are still a few free-ranging mutts in my village, but they are disappearing, killed by cars, or stolen if they are exceptionally cute and trusting. The move to pure-breds has led to confinement. Theft is a big problem, so expensive pure-breds are now confined except for supervised walks.

Villagers learnt from their mistakes with huskies, and now make more sensible choices. In the UK, too, consumers have become more aware of the importance of choosing a breed that suits them, of variations of temperament within the breed, and of choosing a dog with a nice temperament.

So 'breed' became associated with the appearance of a dog and the prestige it brought to owners. 'Pure-bred' or 'pedigree' became terms used to market a product. 'Breeds' became the brand names of magical plush toys that gave owners unconditional love. When the plush toys started growling, or having other ideas than being cuddled or sleeping when they were shut up alone all day, many illusions were shattered. New owners had often lost touch with dogs. They just had rosy memories of being with dogs from childhood. Focusing on 'breed' sometimes led consumers to forget that what was important was the nature of the dog. Dogs were originally designed to live alongside humans. Dogs who can do that well are dogs with a good temperament. A lot of effort went into creating the dog from the wolf, and perhaps it is time to relearn the wisdom of our ancestors.

Adapting to Survive

Wolves are less adaptable than are dogs and humans, and dogs have had to adapt because changes that affect us also affect them. As homes emptied during the day, there was less time for dogs. As people moved to pure-breds, and roads got more dangerous, dogs became more confined. Owners have come to expect dogs to live a long life, and expect more from dogs. It's partly consumer pressure that has led to a call for greater regulation of breeders. However, the law can be a blunt instrument, and any changes should reward those very special breeders who focus on health and temperament, and who sell to owners who are suited to a particular pup.

Owners may be faced with 'behavioural problems' because they have chosen unwisely. They may not have realised what owning any dog involves. They may have chosen a breed that doesn't suit them. They may not have considered temperament. 'Breed' may not tell you much on its own, but it is a starting point for research when people are choosing a dog. It narrows the field and makes it possible to research in depth, to talk to a wide range of people who own the breed, as well as others who come into contact with it. They include groomers, who quickly learn which breeds tend to have individuals that are relaxed about being handled, and trainers who may have their favourite breeds, and get to know the temperament variations within the breed. Then it's easier to locate someone who breeds for temperament.

Choosing a dog wisely makes the relationship much more enjoyable. Today's owners face other challenges once they get the dog home. Our confined dogs have to learn a new, and more demanding set of rules. They have much less freedom than in the past, and are meant to behave well during the short period they are taken for a walk, the most exciting part of their day. We can look back at the past with nostalgia, a time when dogs could exercise themselves, and didn't complain to you of boredom. But this is happening at a time when humans are leading much more sedentary lives, and health experts are telling us to get off our butts and walk more. The discipline of having to walk a dog can make people much fitter and more cheerful, it's far better than slumping in from of a TV, or being hunched over a computer after work. We can also have more rewarding relationships with dogs, by playing games with them, and teaching them interesting things to do. The past was
in some ways a more dog-friendly country, but the mutts people took on were not always the most suitable of pets, and life was riskier for them. We have more chance of keeping dogs alive by walking them rather than letting them walk themselves, and the longer they live, the better we can get to know them.

Dogs today are confined partly because owners value them more and don't want them stolen, but there is also pressure from non-dog owners. They, quite rightly, object to stepping in dog mess, and being jumped on or otherwise inconvenienced by strange dogs. I have seen attitudes change in my village. Now non-dog owners see fewer free-roaming dogs, they are more likely to be spooked by large dogs, and have become less tolerant. If a dog nips them, they are more likely to report it to the police, rather simply than complain to the owner, or kick the dog. For a long time I thought the 'front finish' that Rug and I learnt in obedience classes was pretty useless, but it was useful when I walked him here. Sometimes passers by would be spooked by him, because they were unused to larger dogs, and he was quite wolf-like in appearance. So I would whisper 'finish', and he'd do his 'being a good dog' act, which impressed the passer-by, and told them he was under
control.

Dog people themselves can co-operate in making dogs more acceptable to non-dog owners. Where I walked dogs in England, regular walkers would socialise people who let their dogs 'perform' and didn't pick it, up by handing them a bag. This is an example of social contagion working in the right direction.

There are fewer dogs today in many developed countries. This is a good thing if it improves the quality of the relationship between dog and owner, and between dogs and owners and people who don't own dogs. Aiming for quality rather than quantity means as many pups as possible staying with their owners for life, until they die of old age, with owners making a commitment to teach the dog to be civilised in public. Scandinavians seem to achieve this goal better than Brits, Brits better than Americans. A Scandinavian commented that in her country, owning a dog is seen as a privilege, in the US as a right.

Differences in attitudes explain why Norway, where neutering healthy dogs is frowned on, does not have a major problem with unwanted dogs, while the US, where there's a very strong drive to neuter, does have a problem, with the UK in between on both counts. If large numbers of adolescent dogs are given up to shelters, it's because too many people took on pups with little idea of the commitment involved. Educating consumers about the commitment involved, before they take on a pup seems more sensible than drives to neuter all dogs. Spaying bitches can help protect against pyometra and mammary cancer, but some breeds are especially susceptible to spay-related incontinence, and the operation itself carries some risk. When a pet store sells two large breed bitch littermates to a novice owner, two because 'they will keep each other company', the new owner is likely to encounter problems whether or not the dogs are neutered.

The village myth that dogs of the same sex will always dislike each other has some basis in reality. Take a sample of 100 multi-dog households and ask about conflict. A pattern emerges, the most common conflict is bitch-bitch, then dog-dog, and lastly dog-bitch. Same-sex littermates are more likely to fight than are same-sex dogs of different ages. It doesn't always happen, a friend has two bitch littermates, but they are very different in temperament. They get on fine. The pushier one has conflicts with the 'top dog', a male, rather than with her easy-going littermate. Dogs may not always fit the pattern. All the same, buying two large-breed littermate pups of the same sex is taking on a high-risk proposition. There's a risk that one of the dogs will have to go, especially the owner is inexperienced. One bitch may end up in breed rescue and find a new home as a 'project dog' with a history of fighting.

Pet store employees can encourage consumers to make unwise choices - 'social contagion' again. The costs of unwise choices are born by the consumer, and sometimes by the public, including non-dog owners. Would sellers of pups take more care in matching pups to owners if the lifetime progress of the dogs were tracked? How can consumers be inoculated against taking the word of a teenage salesperson that a pup will suit them just fine?

Humans sometimes 'pack' like wolves, but we are also capable of co-operating with non-kin outside our family group, and with people from outside our 'cultural pack'. What is important is that consumers make sensible choices, and then teach their dogs to behave well, respecting non-dog owners. Trying to ensure that as many pups as possible stay with their owners for life, means changing consumer attitudes and perceptions before people acquire dogs. There is a lot that experienced dog people agree on, whatever their training religion, so there is scope for a common effort for consumer education.

Adaptation is something that humans and dogs are good at, even if at times we make mistakes as we learn to cope with change. We can't go back to the past, but we can learn from it, and use the opportunities available to us in the present

A well-bred dog

Our prehistoric ancestors created dogs by selecting above all for animals that behaved well around humans. Wolves just don't make good pets or working dogs, even tame wolves. The best dog breeders today have the knowledge and commitment to prioritise temperament and health, and to choose owners who best suit the pups.

What, though, is a well-bred dog? What is a 'good temperament'? What people want from pet dogs varies a lot. Some people like active dogs, others prefer them to be more placid. Some people like 'velcro' dogs', others like dogs that are more independent. Some people like naturally biddable dogs, others like dogs that tend to think first, and obey if they see a reason why. Some people are horrified at the idea of a dog jumping to grab a ball, and see this as a defect in temperament. Others say 'What a nice, keen retriever, though he does need to learn to sit before a throw'. There's no such thing as a 'perfect temperament' for a pet dog. Pet owners are human, and human temperaments, skill levels and interests vary.

My little bitch, Tilly is almost an 'idiot-proof' dog. She loves every human, and makes few demands, because she is her own dog. Conor is a dog who needs a lot of socialisation with strange humans, and a lot of human direction. The littermate most like Conor was euthanized for biting strangers, yet he wasn't a difficult dog, just rarely walked so he never learnt how to behave with strangers. The question Conor has always asked is 'what do you want me to do?' Tobe is pushier, he will bring his leash to me, or a throw object, and say 'Come on, I want you to do something with me'. Toby was seen as dog-aggressive, but he just needed supervised mealtimes, Now, Tilly is a wonderfully relaxing dog, but it is Conor and Toby who show a strong desire to share activities with humans. They offer more potential for doing interesting things together. 'Breeding for temperament' is not the same as breeding a standardised dog. Gardeners say 'a weed is a plant in the
wrong place'. Dogs with 'behavioural problems' often just have the wrong owner for that sort of dog.

Within every 'breed' there are dogs with temperaments that are difficult for nearly all owners to cope with. Clearly they should never be bred from, however many beauty contest prizes they may have won. Likewise, there are humans who don't have the commitment or temperament for being dog owners. For most dogs and humans, it's a question of matching the right person with the right dog. At the very minimum, those who supply pups need to be honest about the training and exercise needs that the dog will have, and the kind of personalities the pup's parents have. When consumers are informed, then they can make informed choices.

Being a pet dog means being far more versatile than a wolf. Some people have fantasies about keeping wolves as pets. Wolves are wonderful creatures, but even tame wolves don't become pets. Pet dogs allow us to carry on a dialogue with another species, a dialogue that we have been enjoying for thousands of years.

Alison Lever

Further Reading

Adam Miklosi's The Dog, Biology Behaviour and Cognition is one of the most interesting sources for information comparing dogs and wolves. Scott and Fuller's classic Genetics and the Social Behaviour of the Dog is also well worth reading. Both these books are quite heavyweight, so the Csanyi's If Dogs Could Talk, and the Coppingers' Dogs may be more to your liking. David Mech's works The Wolf: The Ecology and Behaviour of an Endangered Species is also a classic, and he is co-editor of Wolves: Behavior, Ecology and Conservation.

Meanwhile, there have been some very interesting books published on border collies. Donald McCaig's Eminent Dogs, Dangerous Men' explains a lot about the traits needed in working border collies. His Dog Wars is an account of the battles to control the definition of border collies in America, whether they should be defined as a dog that looks a certain way, or that works a certain way. It is very interesting reading for anyone who wants to understand why 'breed' can be a social constructon. Carol Lea Benjamin and Denise Wall's Do Border Collies Dream of Sheep? explains what well-bred border collies can achieve.

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