Anthropomorphism: If You Can’t Say it, Neither Can Your Dog

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Anthropomorphism. Every time I try to say the word, I’m all tongues. I know what it means, but the Oxford Dictionary probably does a better job of explaining it: “The attribution of human characteristics to an animal, god or object.” The very definition of the word should give us a clue about the risks of objectifying animals. 

Yet, we all do it. My 18-year-old blind Chihuahua/Terrier mix, Quinntaro, is secretly a thousand-year-old ghost who inflicts curses by pooping right where you’ll take your first step in the morning. That kind of anthropomorphism is wholesome fun and one of the greatest gifts animals generously give to us, that of love-filled laughter. It reminds us not to take ourselves so seriously and allows us to hold onto some of our childlike innocence, even as adults.

So when does anthropomorphism become a problem? I’d say it’s when we project onto animals the human ability to plot, manipulate, or harm, or when we’d rather label them than understand them. 

When dogs feel emotions they typically resort to one of the four Fs: fight, flight, freeze, or fun. Like humans, they can become overwhelmed and their physiology surges with all sorts of scientific stuff I’m not equipped to detail here. But dogs experience these waves in the moment. They are not capable of linking them to complex thoughts, plans, or future evil deeds. 

Of course, dogs are capable of learning. They do so by remembering what did or did not work last time to get them their favorite reinforcement (treat, toy, cuddles, etc.). If Fido is begging for a tiny morsel of your steak at dinner and doesn’t get one, he might wish he had. But he will not go away and plot his revenge and your ultimate demise. Instead, the next time you are eating steak, he will try new strategies such as standing closer to you, whining louder or longer, or huffing to get your attention. 

Dogs are simply not capable of maliciousness. Fido did not poop in your bed because he is mad at you for not giving him some of your steak. He pooped there for one of two reasons: (1) because dogs are not born knowing right from wrong and he did not know it was the wrong place to go; or (2) because he has a medical issue. Either way, he should be examined by a vet immediately to rule out the second possibility. If his health gets an all-clear, then it’s up to you to train him to know where to go. 

Anthropomorphization becomes dangerous when we label dogs as inherently stubborn or aggressive because these misunderstood dogs are too often rehomed, surrendered, or euthanized. Defining dogs as having a specific nature is a human construct. When we slap these generalized labels on our pets, we shut down any deeper understanding of what their behaviors are trying to tell us. They do not understand us and we do not understand them. 

Most dogs engage in unwanted behaviors because they are trying to tell us what they need and we are not understanding them. If Fido poops on the bed, he is trying to tell us he thinks this is an okay place to go or that he has a medical issue. Whatever the message, it’s up to us to figure it out so we can train him to go in a more appropriate place and/or get him some medical help. 

Likewise, a dog with a bite history may have simply needed some space and distance. He may have felt threatened by the large human towering over him, sticking his extended hand right towards his face (we are already giants even to large dogs so imagine what head petting looks like). In this case, Fido probably gave a list of warning signals such as stiffening his body, closing his mouth, tightening his face, hardening his eyes, pinning his ears back, shooting his tail up and back, shifting backwards, or giving a slight snarl or low growl. Then, when none of this was being recognized and respected, the only recourse he had was to bite. Every dog gives some, if not all, of these signals in a bite situation. To them this is clear communication, but to us it is subtle. As humans, we need to learn to see their signals, read them, and abide by them. 

Anthropomorphism can be fun in the right circumstances. But rather than projecting complex humanoid schemes onto Fido when he misbehaves, we need to look at three things: (1) how the environment provided the access and opportunity to engage in unwanted behavior; (2) what Fido was actually trying to achieve; and (3) what Fido got in return. Only then can we figure out how to change the environment so he cannot do it again, understand and meet his goals in an appropriate way, and provide a suitable response for his behavior. 

Or as my thousand-year-old ghost Quinntaro always says: “Don’t take your dog’s actions personally. Just take personal responsibility for learning to understand what they are saying.”