Rethinking Dog Research

In the not so distant past, people who focused upon domestic dogs as their favorite subject for academic research were viewed by the overarching animal behavior community as crazy dog lovers who were barking up the wrong tree. 

Okay, that is an exaggeration; I guess I was more referring to myself, back in the day, as a dog-obsessed, self-proclaimed dog trainer lacking an academic degree. The scientific literature pertaining to man’s best friend was out there; it just wasn't easy to find, and that reinforced my sense of loneliness and insignificance as one who desired to study, not just boss around or snuggle, dogs.

While investigating these matters, despite my fervent desire to see published dog behavior research juxtapose a breath of scientific reason into the library of entirely anecdotally-based dog nonfiction in my town's public library, I did not yet have a high school diploma (dropped out; long story). I was not in a position to break the ice and begin filling the void with accessible scholarly insights into the canine mind.

Luckily, other, more studious, disciplined individuals kept their noses to the academic grindstone and forged their way into just what was needed; modern scientific dog behavior research. Yea! This seems to have really caught on, along with the pet dog's rise from sort-of-subject status as a "pet" to family member/ surrogate child in most developed nations. Now universities around the world are rising to the occasion (and the more readily available grant money?), popping up with canine cognition laboratories where they perform dog studies and then publish their experiments and results.

Here are some awesome examples (I’d work for any of them if they begged me to). This list was put together by Julie Hecht and shared by Patricia McConnell on her blog:

Canine Cognition Research Groups 

Once lumped with the likes of snake charmers and dog whisperers, dog behavior researchers are becoming the rock stars of the animal behavior field. They get to interact with their subjects, and sometimes even engage with them in fun games posing as exciting experiments. They give Tedtalks and present lectures the public (nonacademic) actually care about; they get to publish crossover books that enlighten the average pet owner about the underpinnings of their research subjects, and people actually buy their books. (How many fairy wren researchers can say that!?)

Doing good animal behavior science requires respect for boundaries and a desire not to corrupt or compromise results. Besides being the way science is done right, perhaps this is because anthropocentrism is so attractive and full of whimsy. Despite the attraction to animals as not-quite-Others (“you are just like me!”), when people directly interact with nonhuman beings, things generally get weird/ bad. Applied behavior work with animals used to mean things like taming tigers for circus acts. 

My thoughts turn to a man named Roy, getting dragged away to a Las Vegas tiger’s den for snack time. According to Roy, in interviews from his near-death bed, this tiger, Mantecore, had purely altruistic, loving, “motherly” intentions; he simply wanted to extract Roy from the stress of the stage, the lights, and the thousands of staring audience members’ eyes, to whisk him away by the jugular—er, scruff of the neck—to “protect” him. According to Roy, Mantecore severed his artery as a deliberate, protective act of bloodletting, to relieve his brain of dangerously-building blood pressure. Stuff like this may impact the researcher contemplating the study of dog behavior as a hands-on science. On the one side, it sounds like fun: puppies! But then again it could also induce scientist-shame: interaction = meddling! Nobody wants to be the academic Roy.

But wait, there’s more! In this case, where we actually live with companion dogs in shared environments, academic meddling in the name of research is part of the bigger behavior-analysis picture. We NEED to be involved, in order to understand the ways dogs are impacted by, and respond to, us… so yes, PUPPIES!

Dog behavior researchers get to jump into the attractive gap between human kind and nonhuman others--that anthrozoological boundary area where most animal behavior research demurely, respectfully peers through a self effacing one-way mirror, or, where it looks for the deleterious impacts of us upon them. Dog behavior studies allow the researcher to (in a controlled manner) tear the membrane, step in, and engage with subjects in full, species-specific awareness of one another. They engage with their subjects (or have their assistants engage with their subjects) in search of understanding domestic dog behaviors and ways of responding to  human beings and the shared environment. The dog researcher basically is rewarded for getting right up into the nonhuman side of the anthrozoological divide, while still holding a position of academic respectability.

Despite getting to roll around with the puppies while enjoying the guilt-free leap into the limelight of academic acceptance and—dare I say it?—credibility, might empirical dog studies still get inadvertently bogged down by a muddy line drawn in the shape of a heart? People share a bond with dogs that transcends the feelings generated by bees, fairy wrens, and other creatures of interest to the animal behavior researcher. We name dogs (and occasionally tigers), consider them friends, and many of us sleep with them when we are not at work studying them; we care for, and accept care from, dogs. Does this set the stage for confirmation bias? If so, I guess confirmation bias in companion animal research is yet another area of study just waiting to be explored!

All of this thinking/ rethinking aloud has served to make my mind up; its time to start a dog behavior research program! 

Now accepting volunteers with all of the following: 

• PhD in a related field
• Access to an illustrious academic institution with an awesome lab
• Must love dogs
• Lack of distracting, competing animal behavior research interest specific to tigers or other animals that tend to eat people

What do you think?

So far, this blog has just been me, me, me. Now I need to invite you to take a shot and share some of your insights into the human-nonhuman animal intersection, from whatever perspective you fancy. Obviously, I talk a lot about dogs, because that's my thing with work. In my personal life, I find every life fascinating.

How do you merge and converge with the other living beings that we share this planet with, either personally, professionally, or both? What do you think about?

Original art by Danny Coeyman

Can the Subaltern Dog Speak?

As a writer, I am most comfortable with op-ed pieces, and this is one of them; so if you were thinking I was going to get all academic with this writing, especially after dropping a big term like "research" in my previous heading, and a Spivak reference in this post's heading, think again. This is just straight up, opinion-based blogging. Read on at your own risk.

As a dog trainer, I share methods for motivating—and manipulating—cued responses and behavioral changes from companion dogs. I spend a lot of my time teaching people the basics of learning theory and force-free dog training applications, as well as how to muddle through the abounding popular dog training advice that, with the help of so-called reality TV, creates a lot of confusion and deposits misinformation-posing-as-science into pet owners’ minds. I sometimes think I am helping pet dogs develop coping strategies for living among human beings, and helping people develop a broader lens for viewing and interacting with their canine companions. Other times I feel like I am selling blunted, sugar-coated dominion; dominion-lite.

I spend a lot of time, when I am not working, thinking about the ethics, or lack there-of, underpinning not just my work, but more broadly, the whole human-nonhuman animal intersection. The easy argument for training dogs is it can help keep them safe and alive. They are here, domesticated and living among us, and yet they are not native to our culture and technologies; the way we live can present great risk to them. They cannot operate in their own best interest, left to their own devices. To grant pet dogs total freedom in most residential settings, here in the US, would be to do them harm.

Despite the fact it pertains to asserting change on other lives, which I have to question, I mostly like my job. I do appreciate animals immensely: humans and others. I am fascinated by both uniqueness and commonalities within and between species, and I like sharing myself with those who find me enjoyable company. Dogs generally seem to want to access me, to check me out, make contact, and even hang out with me. Dare I anthropomorphize and go so far as to say they do seem to really like me? 

I know research shows evidence of reciprocal domestication between humans and domestic dogs; and I've read (sorry, not citing here, but ask me and I’ll do so) about feral dogs repeatedly returning to human-populated villages after their numbers are wiped out, despite these culls being performed by people. The attraction between people and dogs seems to persist and be reciprocal, not just from my biased perspective, but also from a broad viewpoint.

I consider the meeting place between people and pet dogs to be a sort of boundary space. I visualize a private garden where I am compelled to look over the wall, but I don't trespass or invade. I make my presence known and then seek an invitation to enter; and dogs seem to welcome me, rather than run off or try to run me off. Once I am "in", I offer friendship in a one-sided manner, trying to consider the dog, but assigning a point of view corrupted by it being based in my mind. I try to imagine what a particular dog-someone might appreciate from me; but I can only interpret dog body language through my human filters, inferring from bits of observation and the cumulative generalizations I carry from past dog encounters. 

I know there is appropriation in my interpretation of the dog and our friendship. I am the only one able to do any of the actual talking; I have a voice and assign the dog an imagined voice: she says to me, "do not harm me!"--because I am able to imagine her saying this. Yet the dog cannot speak for me unless I assign her the task, for example: "Use your skilled snout to let me know if I am on the verge of having a seizure!" 

So, how do I justify speaking for the dog? I guess it is, so far, the best I can do.

Companions animals are actually safest from us (humans) because they live with us. I think this might be because we perceive them not just to be with us, but then to also like us, and even to be like us. More and more the line seems to be blending; for many pet owners—or these days, pet guardians--the individual pet we appropriate is converted into one of us. What other nonhumans have a better camouflage than this? (Okay, cats, too.) But beyond our pets, what generalized love do we feel for the other lives we share this planet with? 

We are not even generalized dog lovers, if we include the wild canid cousins. One area of my research, that I never actually got around to completing, pertained to sampling the way pet dog owners feel about coyotes, which have been popping up all over the place in increasing numbers. In response to their successful spread, it is open season on Wile E., anytime, no permit required, pretty much across the United States. These canines are considered "varmints" and don't have many fans among pet owners, who typically view them as big, bad, almost-wolves who want to eat their tame, cultured, distant cousins--the pet dogs. 

Domestication, reciprocal or not, has shape-shifted pet dogs away from their roots, slipping them into almost-human identities human beings have assigned. And once they are all dressed up in our imaginings, we believe our construction; we see what we want to see. The Emperor's new dog is not naked; he has an expensive new dog sweater. 

The pet dog, here in my part of the world, has risen from a working domestic animal selectively bred for form-relating-to-human-aiding-functions, such as helping to put food on the table or keeping enemies at bay, to a purchased or “adopted” friend/ family member whose primary function is to make people happy. Like a perfect circle, some of this human happiness stems from feeling good about doing good for an animal in need, for “saving” a good dog from a bad end. That sounds relatively reciprocal, so what am I complaining about? 

It is hard to pull back and look at the larger system, which first creates the harm from which dogs must be "saved", and allows our so-called friends to legally be mistreated and worse. In some parts of the world, right now, it is a criminal offense to put certain types of training collars, deemed "cruel", around a pet dog's neck. Though punitive training methods still are employed by many pet owners who view dogs as subordinates who need to be dominated into social compliance, these methods are being challenged by promoters of modern training methods that are based on purely positive reinforcement; and the outcry from dog lovers calling for humane training methods is growing louder. Yet a companion dog can be given up for adoption, sterilized as a behavioral intervention, and even euthanized at the "owner's" whim.  

We (the people) are the ones with the power to grant or deny other animals "rights." Personhood for nonhumans, if it were to be granted (and I truly doubt it will), would be a puppet show; we would be displaying our power though our choice to defer, by creating some pseudo equality. The dog cannot argue for himself, so the personhood issue becomes a moot—and dog-mute—point, with humans speaking for dogs; no matter what is said, the (subaltern) dog cannot speak.

It is sometimes easy to be ashamed of being a person. Some of us do awful things to other living beings, human and nonhuman; I personally hate to be part of it. When vulnerable, voiceless Others suffer at our hands, many of us cry out in their defense. We try to wash our dirty hands with our angry tears of rage at so much injustice. We watch movies like “Blackfish”; we get very upset hearing about Marius, the giraffe. Then we snap the leash on our dog and give him a good walk, letting him sniff and mark--despite neutering--an extra tree or two, finding some relief in the knowledge we care for at least one nonhuman Other as best we can.

And I settle down to the reality that my job is a good job, because even if I can't really do it, I truly aspire to create a middle ground where the needs of both my human and nonhuman students are tended to, where a voice for the dog is at least considered. 

Time to Get Writing!

ASI-WAS Undergraduate Prize

The Animals and Society Institute (ASI) and Wesleyan Animal Studies (WAS) offer an annual prize for undergraduate students who have written papers in Human-Animal Studies.

According to information published on the Animals and Society website, http://www.animalsandsociety.org,  

ASI and WAS offer a prize to an outstanding, original theoretical or empirical scholarly work that advances the field of human-animal studies. Papers can come from any undergraduate discipline in the humanities, social sciences or natural sciences, and must be between 4,000-7,000 words long, including abstract and references. The winning paper will be published in Society & Animals, an interdisciplinary journal that publishes articles describing and analyzing experiences of and with non-human animals. Topics can include human-animal interactions in various settings (animal cruelty, the therapeutic uses of animals), the applied uses of animals (research, education, medicine and agriculture), the use of animals in popular culture (e.g. dog-fighting, circus, animal companion, animal research), attitudes toward animals as affected by different socializing agencies and strategies, representations of animals in literature, the history of the domestication of animals, the politics of animal welfare, and the constitution of the animal rights movement.

Applicants must be currently enrolled on a full or part-time basis in an academic program at a college or university, or have graduated from a college or university within the 12 months of the application.  Papers are accepted on August 1 each year. 

Read more about the ASI-WAS Undergraduate Prize here: 
http://www.animalsandsociety.org/pages/asi-was-undergraduate-prize

Help Wanted: Anthrozoology Professors!

For this new school to truly get up and running, the first order of priority is to wrangle some anthrozoology professors. I need some savvy sorts from several different academic disciplines to hustle on in and start offering up some inspiring, thought-provoking anthrozoology instruction! 

According to Dr. Jo Swabe, from the now defunct Humans and Other Animals website:

"In reality, there is little homogeneity in anthrozoological research, certainly as far as disciplinary approach, methodology and theory is concerned. The academic backgrounds of anthrozoological researchers can be extremely varied. There are, for example, social scientists, psychologists, zoologists, ethologists, historians, philosophers, veterinarians and even physicians studying the human-animal relationship."

That certainly opens the door to a whole slough of volunteers! We (just two so far) homeschoolers are ever so open-minded, eager to learn and just waiting for you to open doors otherwise closed to us :'(

I imagine there are many of you out there, chock-full of knowledge, thoughts and valuable insights, ready to inspire ground-breaking homeschool grad school research! Think of all of the papers that might otherwise never get published, if not for your answer to the higher calling of giving your time away :'( 

Conflict of interest, you say? Pshaw!  Sign up now, and get your sign-on bonus as well as guaranteed tenure (provided we like you).

Submit your CV by clicking this link:
Homeschool Grad School Anthrozoology Professor Application

Getting Started...Time to Read, Right?

So, just exactly where does a 
                     "homeschooling anthrozoology grad student"
                                                                                                                           begin?

Perhaps sharpening some pencils. This might sound silly, but I am not kidding.

As an undergrad, in anticipation of the start of each new term, I did enjoy the little preparatory steps of obtaining my books, notebooks, and writing implements, and then neatly organizing them in my school bag:

Sort of like the way I once color coded, anally-retentively folded, and carefully organized my firstborn child's onesies while waiting to pop her out.

Like school, once things got started, the sense of slight control and resulting enjoyment found in the little details fell by the wayside. There was a lot of shit to deal with, and by the time my third child rolled around, the onesies were lucky to find there way back into the dresser.

That same firstborn, my daughter Monica, now 28 years old and thoroughly potty trained, has played a significant supporting role in my better-late-than-never formal education. She has (sometimes reluctantly, but fair enough) served as a role model and easily accessible consultant. She was well equipped, having attended the University of Chicago as an (anthropology) undergrad, and she is a straight-up smarty-pants:

Monica has taken her studies where my anecdotal experience once could never travel, into the realm of animal personhood, pet animal acquisition, commodification of animals, and other cool academic perspectives on the human-nonhuman animal bond. In fact I just now called her to confirm her areas of focus before sharing them here. Luckily she is generally very patient with me...and she works for me, as an associate dog behavioral trainer (our day job, folks--homeschooling isn't cheap):

 

So, I invited Monica to be my (our?--Are you there other people? It's me, Margaret!) 
                                               first classmate!

She can serve as a sort of TA, actually. She has already made some good suggestions for our first reading materials, including Donna Harraway's Companion Animal Manifesto, which we both own copies of. I have a lot of books that address some of the topics of interest. Rather than tediously creating a bibliography, I will share a look at some of my books the lazy homeschooler way:

Got any suggestions? Please feel free to add them in the comments section, below, 

because it IS time to start reading...right?

Anthrozoology Drop-Out :(

So, quite recently I was an Anthrozoology graduate-student-to-be, proudly but anxiously enrolled at Canisius College. This only lasted for a week or so...because I dropped out before classes ever began.

I was also a Jack Kent Cooke Foundation Continuing Scholar Graduate Award recipient for a few weeks as well...but I dropped that, too.

I do not feel good about my decisions at the moment, but a couple of months ago, on the heels of graduating with a bachelor of arts degree from North Central College in...what else?...Anthrozoology!...I became completely overwhelmed and exhausted, and sadly, just saying no seemed like a solid idea.

Now I am feeling some regret.

I balked at the thought of writing one more paper, added to the existing load of a disabled daughter, a house under construction, a husband about to undergo surgery, a fifteen year old son on high school swim team, a dog training business to run, and a brand new litter of German Shepherd puppies born two days before my graduation, well...yeah. I was pretty overwhelmed. And I have no vices to fall back on, to aid coping during those tough times that seem to crop up WAY too frequently. I try to ride stress out, but sometimes it rides me, and wears me down.

Did I mention that I am 53? (Actually I'll be 54 in less than two months.)
No, but there it is; I am. Old. At least for my college years.

I was a late bloomer. I dropped out of school at 17 to pursue self education and self employment. Despite being perpetually interested in almost everything, especially animal behavior, I was really lonely. I missed out on a large part of the learning experience, namely discourse, though I didn't know that up until four years ago. That is when, one cold January day, I took the GED at our local (wonderful!) community college, the College of DuPage. I did pretty well, there, and they featured me in some press: Student Spotlight: Peggy Moran.

My late-in-life scholarly pursuits have been good for me, if grueling; and now, unplugged and a drop-out again, I feel pretty discouraged.

But enough about me; I want to talk about Anthrozoology, the multidisciplinary academic field also known as human-nonhuman animal studies.

I intend to use this blog as my own, hopefully-not-but-probably-once-again-pretty-lonely, compensatory attempt to self-educate. No more scholarship? No problem!

I am going to be a grad school homeschooler!  

Despite that sounding just as weird as it is, if you are reading this, please consider being my classmate. I am not trying to get a degree, or even a better job; I am just very, very interested in connections, especially ones that pertain to other living beings of both the human and nonhuman sort. Maybe you are, too.

Perhaps we can learn together, you and I--provided there is a you out there, reading this...
I sure hope so!