Thursday, April 22, 2021

Anthropomorphism

Sometimes, you just know what your dog/cat is thinking. The four-legged furry things can be rather expressive. After years of living with them, you'd instinctively know what they're up to.

  • I know when she is thirsty and looks at me to ask for water when we’re out on walks or when she doesn't really want it and can wait. 
  • I know when she doesn’t have much appetite for a full brunch/lunch, and would prefer her morning meal to be split into two smaller separate meals. 
  • Her 'I want cheese now please' expression is unmistakable. It's different from her 'Can I have a snack (it doesn't have to be cheese)' look.
  • Over the weekend when she got the runs bad, I was fast asleep, but I shot up instantly when I felt a paw on my arm and shoulder. But before that, I swear I heard her pipe up in a tiny voice, “Momma I need to poop. Now. Please wake up.” That happened thrice in 12 hours (at 2310, 0110 and 0845 hrs). And the good girl had shitsplosions, outdoors. 

Am I anthropomorphizing? Totally. She is not my fur-kid though. I'm not inclined towards that description. She's an eternal child, a little tot perhaps, but she's still a dog. So she's my dog. 

Anthropomorphism, the attribution of distinctively human mental characteristics to nonhuman animals and objects, illustrates the human propensity for extending social cognition beyond typical social targets.

('Anthropomorphizing without Social Cues Requires the Basolateral Amygdala'; Journal of Cognitive Neuroscience (2019) 31 (4): 482–496.)

It's dangerous to anthropomorphize the dog. When I do that, I apportion values of care and consideration to the dog, as well as make her responsible for her actions, and hence deserving of reward and punishment. If those expectations are pegged to a very low level, that is fine, any higher, and it's abuse. A dog is not a child. It doesn't think the way we do. Rewards yes; punishment is a big question mark. Positive punishment is preferred. A dog will understand time-out and our anger immediately after a misdeed. But it doesn't consider anything beyond that. 

I would say, correcting your dog and instilling discipline is a much better approach. Choya might not understand the full extent of her actions. She reacts to the moment and stimuli. She doesn't pause to consider consequences. Training methods would have to be adjusted to suit different dogs. A set of programs might not even be applicable to many dogs. Managing a dog's anxiety isn't about rewards or punishment. It's a little more complicated than that since it involves triggers and desensitization work, and training the dog to comprehend your 'safe' commands.

Given the pervasiveness of anthropomorphism (Gray, Gray, & Wegner, 2007), many have suggested that anthropomorphism represents a relatively automatic, effortless, and intuitive process. Humphrey (1976, p. 312) suggested that humans' tendency to reason socially about nonhuman stimuli represented “a predisposition among men to try to fit non-social material into a social mould” (emphasis ours). This view suggests that humans are naturally inclined to anthropomorphize.

('Anthropomorphizing without Social Cues Requires the Basolateral Amygdala'; Journal of Cognitive Neuroscience (2019) 31 (4): 482–496.)

To that, and to manage Choya's anxiety, I have made the decision about animal communicators, reiki for dogs, crystals and healing energies. Those don't get past my fundamental beliefs and way of life. I don't do that for myself. So I won't subject the dog to these either. I can't call it hogwash, but I can't subscribe to the tenets of animal communication. I'm not able to science it, and I don't accept that 'some things can't be explained'. I'm not obstinate about it, we'll have to agree to disagree on this one. At least at this point, the man shares the same outlook regarding these issues so I don't have to tear my hair out over it. He is agnostic after all. 

I'm a little more open to sound therapy, say Tibetan singing bowls. Her phobia stems from an aversion to noise. It's not a disorder yet, so it makes sense to utilize sound therapy to calm her. I understand meditation and a focused clearing of the mind. 靜. I understand and fully grasp what shinrin-yoku 森林浴 (forest bathing) is about.

There's nothing more the dog loves than to sit and chill out in the forest or at the beach, listening to the sounds of water, and those the wind makes as it passes through the leaves. That's the gentle hum of nature, the type she likes. She doesn't enjoy Nature's fury, but she'll learn to accept it. Our daily walks are healing balm for the soul, for both humans and dog. 

I know my dog best. That's not quite a blanket statement. I'd also have to read all available literature on dog behaviors, quirks and such to arrive at informed conclusions. I'll have to utilize all my skills to logically deduce the dog's anxiety triggers, regardless of weather or Seventh Month. Oof.

How would I explain 'instinctive'? How would I 'instinctively know' anything about the dog? It's a skill honed from familiarity with a lot of informed guesses, I suppose. Information (body language, previous reactions, etc) gleaned over years that is slowly filed in my conscious brain and subconscious mind. 

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