Dog Behavior

 A while back, our car was broken into in the parking lot of our health club, and my purse, and all its contents including cell phone, wallet, credit cards, checkbook, etc. was stolen. To put it mildly, this was a traumatic event, especially for me more than Dan, because it was my personal effects that were taken.  The sense of violation and being taken advantage of was quite intense, and both of us, although me more so, were quite emotionally upset.

As I returned home from spending 2 hours waiting to get a new driver’s license, who should meet me at the door, with her happy face, wagging tail, and sloppy kisses but Coral, our Irish setter.  Coral of course had no inkling how upset I was, she was just showing her puppy pleasure at having mom back home.  I sat down on the floor, let Coral crawl all over me, and played with her for a few minutes.  Only us pet owners could understand what a lift to my spirits she provided. 

Much has been written about the human-animal bond and why pets are good for us, but I think that’s particularly true at times of emotional distress.  While Dan has been much more positive and in control in dealing with this robbery than I have, even he can’t yet reach the point of cheerfulness. 

Coral however has remained her happy, sunny self.  Because our pets don’t have to experience our emotional trauma first hand, their behavior remains relatively constant.  That constancy, something even our closest friends and relatives usually can’t provide, is one reason why pets are such an important source of emotional support.

Pets also don’t hold grudges.  A few weeks back, Coral stole yet another piece of my underwear from the dirty clothes and proceeded to chew a hole in it.  This was a new camisole that I just loved, so out of anger I raised my voice at Coral for a few choice sentences.  She retreated into the other room, and I sat down on the floor with my sewing kit to try and repair the damage.  Within just a few minutes I see this little red-head peek around the partially closed door.  I looked up at Coral, her ears went back, and her tail started wagging.  I looked away, she took a few steps toward me, and her ears back came up. 

While I know better than to conclude Coral was “sorry”, she was definitely showing what behaviorists call reconciliation behaviors – attempting to repair our social bond.  Of course I couldn’t stay mad at her, and said “OK, we’re friends again”, and she came over and licked my face.

 It’s much more difficult for us humans to make these attempts to repair relationships when things go wrong.  We allow our pride, hurt feelings, and need to be right to get in the way.  Our pets don’t do any of this. 

So my hat is off to Coral for being a “bigger person” than I could possibly be and for “being there” for us, as only she could.