Joan Merriam: A dog’s view of the world

We dogs love interacting with our social group: usually humans or other dogs. Sometimes even the cat. Yet you leave us alone to go to work, to school, to shopping, and other places. You don’t realize that being alone sometimes — especially when we’ve just been brought into your house and don’t know what to expect — makes us feel abandoned and afraid when you leave, worried that you’re never coming home again. That’s one reason we can get so excited or even agitated when our people come home — but lots of times, you just don’t understand what the big deal is. (I always say, “It’s a dog thing.”)

It’s weird too how your scent keeps changing. Every time you step into that little room where water pours from the wall and put bubbly stuff in your hair, or when you change your outside skin or spray yourself with flowery stuff, your scent changes. Can you see why we might be puzzled by these ever-changing smells, especially since we use scent to identify you and other familiar people and things?

As a dog, we also experience a lot of the the world with our mouths: we just don’t get why you try to stop us from eating grass or chewing on a something wonderful we found on the ground that you call disgusting. When we “mouth,” lick, or play-bite, we’re communicating our feelings, whether it’s to another dog or a human. We’re totally mystified when we do something totally instinctive like biting, and you pull your hand away and get annoyed.

Even the way you deal with food is a little incomprehensible. We instinctively scavenge for food, whether it’s on the ground, under a dining table, off the kitchen counter, or in the cat’s litter box. But you bring us food in a bowl, then expect us to ignore that half-eaten, dead hamburger abandoned in the bushes.

And then there’s that going-for-a-walk thing. As much as most of us love it, you need to remember that walking slowly by your side is a very unnatural behavior for us dogs. Most of the time, we walk at a much faster pace, and we don’t stick to one trajectory: the direction we move — and the speed at which we do it! — is generally connected to what we either smell or see. For us, sniffing around from place to place is much more natural than walking politely alongside you—and when we catch a scent or see something elsewhere, we naturally want to run as fast as we can after it. Which, of course, we can’t do when you have us on that leash-thingy.

Humans use their hands a lot, and we’re not sure why or what you might do with them. Sometimes those hands pet us, and bring treats, toys, and belly-rubs … but other times they hold us down, force something nasty into our mouths, or even slap us. Plus, your hands sometimes wave around in the air when you’re making sounds, for no reason. Can you imagine us doing that with our paws? Little wonder that we can be a little apprehensive about human hands.

You also bring strangers into our home, and sometimes those strangers have unknown dogs with them. Until we learn otherwise, it’s instinctive for us to see these kinds of intrusions as a possible threat to our human’s safety and territory, but you want us to act like it’s fun right from the beginning.

But all that being said, both we dogs and you, our humans, recognize emotion on one another’s faces and eyes. We both find enormous joy and comfort in being near each other. In spite of the very different ways we each interact with the world, we clearly hold great love for one another in our hearts.

And it is that love that will always keep us together.

Joan Merriam lives in Nevada County with her Golden Retriever Joey, her Maine Coon cat Indy, and the abiding spirit of her beloved Golden Retriever Casey in whose memory this column is named. You can reach Joan at joan@joanmerriam.com. And if you’re looking for a Golden, be sure to check out Homeward Bound Golden Retriever Rescue