Dogs make better people

Mr Burns with Erica, his sweetheart of a teacherWe finished Level III Sirius puppy training last night, me and Mr Burns and our teacher Erica and the other people and dogs in our class -- Habibi, Tammu, Lola and Barry.  In the way of all school nerds, I have loved every moment of puppy class ever since we started, when we'd only had Burnsy for maybe two weeks, back in late September.  Burns has been in training for the entire 6 months he's been our boy.

OK, so Joe won't call me a liar, I admit that I do whine a little bit about leaving the house in the evening to go to puppy class, wishing I could just stay here at the laptop and scribble, or read a book, or otherwise chill out.  But most especially since we decided, somewhere back in Level I, that Joe could sit the training classes out.  Naturally, he'd take a lesson re-cap from me and be consistent in the actual training of the pup, but only one of us actually physically attends the class with Burns.  Which means when I go, I get to choose between Stay Home with Joe or Go To Class With Burns.  I hate choosing, hence the whining.

But I go.  Because I'm committed to Burns being the best dog on the planet.

The thing I think about, though, is that sure, Burns will be a really well-trained dog or as well-trained as I, a rank amateur, can make him.  But that really, puppy class is all about training me, along with Burns, is really all about training people.  Of course it's really about the sit-stay and developing a level of trust and shared language between person and pup, but working with your dog is about so much more that.  In class and on the trail, especially since we've had a puppy, it seems to me that dogs, even when we're training them, are constantly teaching us.

The truth is that dogs make better people.

There's a theory now that dogs actually domesticated humans in a sense, rather than the other way around.  That old tale, about how domestic dogs descended from a wild wolf tamed by a person, has been challenged recently.  In an excellent documentary, "Dogs That Changed the World," Biologist Raymond Coppinger talks about how wolves actually domesticated themselves, gradually reducing the "flight distance" between themselves and early human settlements, in pursuit of easy food -- i.e., left-overs.  Further on in the same documentary, there's a bit on how dogs allowed for a settled agricultural existence, otherwise unthinkable without the protection they provided to early humans, and permitted us to exploit niches that would have remained closed to us -- the Arctic is one extreme example, where sled dogs are essential in so many ways, but also in any high or other place where sheep or goats are kept and dogs do the work of keeping our food source safe and in one piece.  

Instead of us making dogs what they are -- which is certainly true when we look at all of the variation in breeds and sizes -- it's more true that dogs have shaped us.  That life with dogs has allowed humankind to develop in ways it might not have without them. It thrills me to think how human culture has developed with dogs, because of dogs, thanks to dogs.  Yes, they're pets but they're a whole lot more than that.  Sometimes, they seem like partners -- like we go hand in paw, paw in hand.

This is true historically, in a big sweeping way, looking back on how we evolved, and it's also true on a smaller scale, day-to-day.  Hiking down a fire road day-before-yesterday, on a bright Sunday morning with Mr Burns, we passed a gaggle of guys on mountain bikes grunting and working their way up the same steep hill.  Every single one of them greeted me in a friendly but perfunctory manner, saving their breath.  They weren't talking to each other, they were concentrated on the summit.  But that didn't stop every single one of them from baby-talking Burns with every bit of oxygen at their disposal, a steady stream of goofy endearments and sweet-talk until we were out of sight.  That kind of thing makes me so happy, not just because they can see how freaking cute Burns is, but because face to face with a puppy they let their guard down.  

They become more human.  Better humans.

It's not about being a cat-person or a dog-person.  I love cats, and this is bigger than that.  I'm convinced that as humans we are what we are -- when we're at our best, sometimes even at our worst -- because of our relationship to dogs.  They made us.  

And they keep making us.  So when Burns is giving me the eyes for the jar of baby food in my hand or when I'm watching him closely to see how he's thinking through the commands, his eager mind making choices about what to do and what not to do, I'm continually learning.  Learning to be a better person in every puppy class, in every training, on every walk and sit and stay.  Becoming more human every time I challenge myself to think more like a dog, be in the present moment as he is, see what's in front of my nose.

So yeah, Burnsy, we're committed to training you, to you being the best you possible, so expect more puppy class and, hopefully, more of your beloved Erica.   And, really, Thank you.  We're truly grateful -- so glad you're just as, if not even more, devoted to our improvement, to our own development into better people, to training us to be better humans all the time.