part of it. OK?’
Ice’s owners, Keith and Sharon, nodded in quiet agreement. They took back the lead and sat down at the side of the hall with a very subdued dog by their side. It wasn’t nice to see their pet being manhandled, but it did seem to have an effect on him. After all, he was a big, powerful dog – Malamutes may look like Huskies, but they are bigger and stronger – and he had started to pull them towards strangers in the street. They knew that they couldn’t allow him to become out of control.
Keith and Sharon did their homework every day as instructed – or at least they tried to. Over the following week, they subjected Ice to repeated ‘alpha rollovers’. The first day, Ice seemed to think it was a bit of a joke. He took Sharon’s arm in his mouth and held it as if he was playing, but she persisted and forced him onto his back. He lay there looking bemused, and jumped up again as soon as she let go. On the second day, things weren’t so easy. As Sharon approached, Ice dodged out of the way and tried to flee the room. Between them, Keith and Sharon caught the huge dog and pinned him down, but he growled continuously and Sharon was sure he tried to snap as they let him get up. By the Thursday – you’ve guessed it – Ice was having none of it. He had tried every trick in the doggie book to get his owners to stop behaving so weirdly and his patience had run out. When they approached him, Ice bared his teeth and snarled so ferociously that Sharon was genuinely frightened; Keith probably was as well – and who could blame him? They decided to leave Ice alone.
The next night, they were back at the dog training class. For the first time since joining the class a few weeks before, Ice stiffened as he entered the hall and growled at a lady who reached out her hand to stroke him. This took Keith and Sharon completely by surprise, as he had always been friendly with the other owners before. The fray attracted the attention of the instructor who came stomping towards them, red in the face and looking as though he meant business. This time, however, Ice was ready for him. As the instructor leant forward to take the lead from Keith, Ice saw his opportunity and lunged at him, teeth on full display and barking (well, spitting) with full force. Unfortunately, at this point the instructor made a terrible mistake. Instead of backing off, turning away or reducing the level of threat he was showing the dog, he moved towards him, determined in his own uniquely human way to have the last word. His lesson was a clear one. Ice bit him on the arm. With Sharon in tears, Keith shaking with adrenaline and Ice in disgrace, they were ordered to leave the hall, the instructor’s final words ringing in their ears: ‘That dog is out of control. He’s dominant and aggressive and you should have him put down. If you don’t, I’ll report you.’
Keith and Sharon sat on the sofa in their front room as they relayed this sorry tale to me. Pale and anxious, they frequently glanced at each other for reassurance, clearly worried about what I was going to say. They feared they were going to lose their precious dog.
Sadly, this is a story I am all too familiar with, in one form or another.
It’s so tempting to believe the traditional story: a caveman tames a wild wolf and they both live happily ever after. However, this myth fails on so many counts that it’s a wonder it has prevailed for so long. Domestic dogs are not simply tame wolves. Nor do tame wolves ever become ‘domestic’, no matter how well they have been hand-reared. Although dogs and wolves share a genetic background, failing to distinguish between the two species is as misguided as failing to distinguish between man and ape.
So, how did such myths come to be so prevalent in our society? Why is it that so many books, television programmes and self-styled ‘experts’ are still claiming that dogs are really the ‘wolf on your sofa’?
Many of the tales told about wolf behaviour are simply untrue. The idea that the alpha pair always eat first is one example. If this were truly the case, how on earth would wolf cubs survive? Such a claim simply doesn’t make evolutionary sense. The fact is that wolves are highly social and a kill is shared amongst the pack – with youngsters, adolescents and even elderly wolves getting a good meal, often before the other adult members of the group.
Other theories – such as the idea of a linear hierarchy – where a strict ladder of rank exists – are based on captive packs. However, keeping any kind of predatory animal in a restricted area with others of its own kind is a far cry from ‘natural’ behaviour; we only have to watch the Big Brother television show to appreciate that!
Even the idea of submission has been woefully misinterpreted. Wolves living a free and wild existence don’t exert dominance over each other in order to elicit submission; on the contrary, submission is offered freely by one wolf to another in order to gain reassurance – something quite different – and it’s a behaviour that’s not shared by their domestic cousins, the dog. Indeed, wolf cubs raised with domestic dogs sometimes illustrate this in the oddest ways, with the cubs trying to push their muzzles inside the jaws of their rather bemused domestic dog elders.
While some of the misinformation that exists about ‘wolves versus dogs’ is simply amusing, in my role as a canine behaviour specialist, I have first-hand evidence of the problems such ingrained and unquestioned beliefs can cause. The idea that dogs view humans as a part of a pack, and that they must observe pack rules in order to be ‘leader’, has led to some extraordinary urban myths. These include encouraging owners to sit in their dogs’ beds to show them who’s boss, and telling them to ignore their dogs when they first come home in case the dog tries to ‘dominate them’. Owners are asked to pretend to eat before feeding their dog in a misplaced effort to show the dog he’s bottom of the pile. Some even follow the advice to pin their dogs down, in a so-called ‘alpha rollover’. What dogs think of these appalling misjudgements of their communication systems is anyone’s guess. How they put up with these bizarre human ways is even more of a mystery, but to me, the greatest travesty is that very few people stop to question the rationale behind the rules they are given.
So, if dogs are not wolves in disguise, what are they? Well, there is strong evidence to suggest that dogs are just big babies! Instead of developing into full-blown adult wolves, evolution has caused a genetic shift, bringing about both physical and behavioural changes. Domestic dogs’ skulls are smaller than wolves’, their teeth are relatively undeveloped and their reproductive cycles are different. Domestic dogs yelp, they whine and they bark – all characteristics that are lost by the time a wolf is five months old. In other words, dogs stay for ever as juveniles – playful, puppy-like and highly dependent on their parents.
Dogs and humans share a long and successful history together because of the ability to get along, and because they need us. This sociability is based on good communication (dogs are great at this, while we do our best), the ability to share (a juvenile attribute) and teamwork. Just watch a sheepdog and his handler work, or a Retriever in the field, fetching birds back to the gamekeeper. They are not in competition with each other but are operating as a team, each with different but equal skills.
Perhaps my greatest challenge when working with pet dog owners is to get the message across that your dog is not an adversary but an ally. Work together and the team will build bonds so strong they will never be broken. Work against each other in the belief that your dog is trying to dominate you, and the relationship will start to suffer.
During the whole time that Sharon, Kevin and I were chatting, Ice lay on the floor looking nonchalant, as only a Malamute can. He was one of the most beautiful dogs I have ever seen, with ice-blue eyes (hence the name), a thick, plush coat and a face that you just wanted to snuggle into. However, every time I so much as moved my hands, he became still and rolled his eyes slightly – a clear and perfectly polite canine communication warning me to keep my distance.
Since I’d entered the house, Ice had kept a careful eye on me. He was not proactive and as long as I held back, I knew I was going to be safe around him. He just needed to know the same about me. It was little surprise that Ice thought I was likely to be bad news. Ever since the training class incident, Keith and Sharon had received few visitors, and had taken to walking Ice in the early hours of the morning so as to avoid other people, fearful