Contributor
05-15-2008, 04:02 AM
This article was originally posted on LonelyLifetime.com in October, 2007.
The Unique Personalities of Animals, by Piotr F.
Life is life - whether in a cat, or dog or man. There is no difference there between a cat or a man. The idea of difference is a human conception for man’s own advantage.
~Sri AurobindoAs human beings we often forget about the uniqueness of other animals. In fact, we sometimes take for granted our own unique personalities. Dogs, cats, cows, pigs, birds and rats all have similar qualities that human beings have. Not only can animals feel pain, happiness, hunger, thirst, depression when a loved one had died, anxiety when separated from a loving home, shyness when meeting a new animal and jealousy when more attention is paid to the competitors, but also, animals feel and express gratitude.
Saturday morning I joined fellow animal lovers in helping Mrs. Jung , a lady who singlehandedly runs the dog shelter, take care of her many dogs. In the last month 30 dogs have been either fostered or adopted, however, there are still too many left, all of whom have an uncertain future. We arrived on the property in the morning. The greenhouse which houses the dogs smells not unlike a factory farm I volunteered at in Belgium, though less severe, in comparison. The smell of ammonia was difficult to take in at first, but eventually that smell subsided, and became less noticeable. Upon entering the greenhouse, the 100+ dogs eagerly wagged their tails and smiled. All wanted equal attention, even the shy ones who were too nervous to approach, but definitely clever in getting attention through other means. The first thing I noticed among the animals was that most of these dogs were toy size. Shi Tzus were the most numerous of the dogs. Not surprisingly, this breed is the one most often seen in pet stores. This is where the dogs end up (if they are lucky) once a family has abandoned their “beloved pet”. These Shi Tzus, along with the other breeds, all had unique personalities. Some dogs came out to greet us instantly, while other dogs waited until they knew we could be trusted.
I befriended a wonderful old dog, whose fur was yellow, white and caramel. His protruding teeth quickly earned him the name of Grandpa. As with many of the dogs at this shelter, he was quite old, perhaps 8 or 9 years. In the greenhouse, he would often walk towards me, usually from behind, and would comfortably place his paws on my back. As soon as I would turn around to see who it was, he’d run off to camouflage himself among the other eager dogs. Though there were a number of other dogs who were trying (and often succeeded) to get my attention, I was fixed on trying to communicate with the shy dogs, who were interested in attention, but were unsure of which way to go about getting it. The best way I know of communicating with a dog (aside from bribing with food) is to extend a hand close enough for the canine to smell. Then, once he places his nose on your fingers, reach to pat his head and eventually scratch behind the ear. Surely, this had worked with Grandpa. Soon enough, Grandpa realized I was not going to harm him.
Grandpa’s appearance was not pretty. In fact, he was somewhat scary at first. So it also took me a while before I knew I could trust him. Without further hesitation, I picked him up, took him outside and ventured on a short walk. I took a leash, placed it over his head and proceeded to put him down. Grandpa would have none of that. He was content staying in my arms and stuck on like a leech. I quickly checked if his paws were made of Velcro. No. Grandpa, who had very little contact with people other than Mrs. Jung, was not willing to walk on a leash. Finally, I was able to put him on the ground and proceeded to walk. Grandpa would not follow. A 10 minute plea ensued but I just gave up trying to persuade him (“Grandpa, Grandpa! I promise there will be a nice surprise further on down the road! Come on. Please? Please??”). Finally, I picked him up again and held the uncertain old dog like a new born baby and walked down the paved road. After spending such a long time in a shelter, surrounded by other dogs, these new, unfamiliar surroundings were quite shocking to him, I imagine. Sure, he must have once roamed within fields of grass, or on a sidewalk, but this is the world which had neglected and abused him. It was understandable that he was scared. We walked over to a nice green patch of land and sat down with the company of four other humans and dogs. Grandpa rested in my arms for a while, but quickly learned (with a little help from our human friends, and probably from the canine companions) that we were there to enjoy the green grass, bright sunshine and each other’s company.
Grandpa was not unique in his shyness, but went about overcoming it quite differently from other dogs. Others gained confidence through food compensation (“If you take one step, you’ll get one treat! Please? Good boy!!!!”), while others were reluctant no matter what. Once they were in my arms there was no way they could be put back down. They embraced tightly and were reluctant to let go.
There were, of course, other dogs who had no inhibitions whatsoever! They’d jump and perform acrobatics! Some would bark and whine until they were finally acknowledged. Then they’d be content for a minute and would come back for more. Really, any one of those dogs, once shown even a little bit of affection, would come back for more. If they came from one direction and were ignored, they’d simply approach from another space. If a quiet whine didn’t garner enough sentiment, then they’d bark something completely different. Each dog had a unique way of communicating.
There really was a sense of satisfaction when a timid, scared dog would finally begin to trust his human companion. From being an observer, somewhere far in a dark corner, the dog would later run to you, knowing perfectly well that we were there to play with them, to befriend them and offer them comfort. Sure, some dogs were less kind than others. But a great majority of them were simply wanting our affection. I entered the greenhouse not knowing what my role would be in the grand scheme of things, but have since realized that my role is simple, to just take notice of these hopeful animals and provide them with a bit of joy. The dogs gained confidence and began to trust us humans and eagerly returned their gratitude.
In a few weeks’ time they may not exist. It is difficult to imagine that. To some, these dogs are just that, dogs, flesh wrapped in a coat of fur. It was difficult playing with them, knowing that this could be one of their last positive encounters with humans. Their future remains uncertain, but, I am confident that if more people came down to the shelter, got to know a dog, they would realize that they are not much different from us. Truly, these dogs have such unique characters. All have different faces, smiles, ways of wagging their tails, barking, crying, and showing their appreciation. There were two dogs, who were quite old, with maybe a tooth or two here and there who kept barking what seemed to sound like a very desperate “How! How!” Sure, dogs can’t talk, but humans can’t bark, either. Who knows what they were really trying to communicate. Perhaps it really was just that, “How! How!”
The Unique Personalities of Animals, by Piotr F.
Life is life - whether in a cat, or dog or man. There is no difference there between a cat or a man. The idea of difference is a human conception for man’s own advantage.
~Sri AurobindoAs human beings we often forget about the uniqueness of other animals. In fact, we sometimes take for granted our own unique personalities. Dogs, cats, cows, pigs, birds and rats all have similar qualities that human beings have. Not only can animals feel pain, happiness, hunger, thirst, depression when a loved one had died, anxiety when separated from a loving home, shyness when meeting a new animal and jealousy when more attention is paid to the competitors, but also, animals feel and express gratitude.
Saturday morning I joined fellow animal lovers in helping Mrs. Jung , a lady who singlehandedly runs the dog shelter, take care of her many dogs. In the last month 30 dogs have been either fostered or adopted, however, there are still too many left, all of whom have an uncertain future. We arrived on the property in the morning. The greenhouse which houses the dogs smells not unlike a factory farm I volunteered at in Belgium, though less severe, in comparison. The smell of ammonia was difficult to take in at first, but eventually that smell subsided, and became less noticeable. Upon entering the greenhouse, the 100+ dogs eagerly wagged their tails and smiled. All wanted equal attention, even the shy ones who were too nervous to approach, but definitely clever in getting attention through other means. The first thing I noticed among the animals was that most of these dogs were toy size. Shi Tzus were the most numerous of the dogs. Not surprisingly, this breed is the one most often seen in pet stores. This is where the dogs end up (if they are lucky) once a family has abandoned their “beloved pet”. These Shi Tzus, along with the other breeds, all had unique personalities. Some dogs came out to greet us instantly, while other dogs waited until they knew we could be trusted.
I befriended a wonderful old dog, whose fur was yellow, white and caramel. His protruding teeth quickly earned him the name of Grandpa. As with many of the dogs at this shelter, he was quite old, perhaps 8 or 9 years. In the greenhouse, he would often walk towards me, usually from behind, and would comfortably place his paws on my back. As soon as I would turn around to see who it was, he’d run off to camouflage himself among the other eager dogs. Though there were a number of other dogs who were trying (and often succeeded) to get my attention, I was fixed on trying to communicate with the shy dogs, who were interested in attention, but were unsure of which way to go about getting it. The best way I know of communicating with a dog (aside from bribing with food) is to extend a hand close enough for the canine to smell. Then, once he places his nose on your fingers, reach to pat his head and eventually scratch behind the ear. Surely, this had worked with Grandpa. Soon enough, Grandpa realized I was not going to harm him.
Grandpa’s appearance was not pretty. In fact, he was somewhat scary at first. So it also took me a while before I knew I could trust him. Without further hesitation, I picked him up, took him outside and ventured on a short walk. I took a leash, placed it over his head and proceeded to put him down. Grandpa would have none of that. He was content staying in my arms and stuck on like a leech. I quickly checked if his paws were made of Velcro. No. Grandpa, who had very little contact with people other than Mrs. Jung, was not willing to walk on a leash. Finally, I was able to put him on the ground and proceeded to walk. Grandpa would not follow. A 10 minute plea ensued but I just gave up trying to persuade him (“Grandpa, Grandpa! I promise there will be a nice surprise further on down the road! Come on. Please? Please??”). Finally, I picked him up again and held the uncertain old dog like a new born baby and walked down the paved road. After spending such a long time in a shelter, surrounded by other dogs, these new, unfamiliar surroundings were quite shocking to him, I imagine. Sure, he must have once roamed within fields of grass, or on a sidewalk, but this is the world which had neglected and abused him. It was understandable that he was scared. We walked over to a nice green patch of land and sat down with the company of four other humans and dogs. Grandpa rested in my arms for a while, but quickly learned (with a little help from our human friends, and probably from the canine companions) that we were there to enjoy the green grass, bright sunshine and each other’s company.
Grandpa was not unique in his shyness, but went about overcoming it quite differently from other dogs. Others gained confidence through food compensation (“If you take one step, you’ll get one treat! Please? Good boy!!!!”), while others were reluctant no matter what. Once they were in my arms there was no way they could be put back down. They embraced tightly and were reluctant to let go.
There were, of course, other dogs who had no inhibitions whatsoever! They’d jump and perform acrobatics! Some would bark and whine until they were finally acknowledged. Then they’d be content for a minute and would come back for more. Really, any one of those dogs, once shown even a little bit of affection, would come back for more. If they came from one direction and were ignored, they’d simply approach from another space. If a quiet whine didn’t garner enough sentiment, then they’d bark something completely different. Each dog had a unique way of communicating.
There really was a sense of satisfaction when a timid, scared dog would finally begin to trust his human companion. From being an observer, somewhere far in a dark corner, the dog would later run to you, knowing perfectly well that we were there to play with them, to befriend them and offer them comfort. Sure, some dogs were less kind than others. But a great majority of them were simply wanting our affection. I entered the greenhouse not knowing what my role would be in the grand scheme of things, but have since realized that my role is simple, to just take notice of these hopeful animals and provide them with a bit of joy. The dogs gained confidence and began to trust us humans and eagerly returned their gratitude.
In a few weeks’ time they may not exist. It is difficult to imagine that. To some, these dogs are just that, dogs, flesh wrapped in a coat of fur. It was difficult playing with them, knowing that this could be one of their last positive encounters with humans. Their future remains uncertain, but, I am confident that if more people came down to the shelter, got to know a dog, they would realize that they are not much different from us. Truly, these dogs have such unique characters. All have different faces, smiles, ways of wagging their tails, barking, crying, and showing their appreciation. There were two dogs, who were quite old, with maybe a tooth or two here and there who kept barking what seemed to sound like a very desperate “How! How!” Sure, dogs can’t talk, but humans can’t bark, either. Who knows what they were really trying to communicate. Perhaps it really was just that, “How! How!”