Growl and Bear It
I was thinking a bit more about
yesterday's post, and thought I might have created the wrong
impression when I said that Bear hadn't been "overtly aggressive."
He was behaving aggressively, but not in a way that would
be obvious to most people. Aggression is an often-misunderstood
term, and most people associate the word with impending bodily harm
even though aggression really covers a much wider spectrum of
behaviors.
From a purely human perspective, Bear appeared to be gentle giant.
He was calm, and wasn't growling or showing his teeth. So, where
was the aggression in his behavior? It was in the constant
encroachment, and the failure to respect or respond to Glindy's
clear warning signals.
Think of it this way: if you were walking down the street and some
big bruiser of a guy you've never met came up right behind
you—perhaps close enough to breathe on your neck—you'd
be wildly uncomfortable, right? You might even be afraid, trying to
figure out whether this guy is a vicious mugger, a potential
rapist, or just so mentally deranged that he doesn't realize he's
breaking all the social conventions by standing so close to you
like that. Either way, it's a frightening prospect, and you're
hard-wired to see situations like that as dangerous.
When the stress level gets too high, the fight or flight response
kicks in. Perhaps you'll scream and run away, or maybe you'll turn
around and try to kick this guy in the crotch to get him before he
gets you. Or maybe, if you are still a little unsure as to whether
you really are in danger, you might take a more civilized approach
and ask this person to step back out of your space.
If you ask someone to step back, and he continues to crowd you,
almost any sane person would consider that other person dangerous.
Whether he means you harm or is simply mentally unstable isn't
really the point. The point is that this individual is dangerously
unpredictable; if he isn't afraid to violate social norms like
respecting your space or backing off on request, perhaps he might
violate other social norms like "thou shalt not kill."
When people are involved, the threat implicit in this scenario is
obvious. But for some reason, humans don't always see the problem
when the participants are dogs. The dog is just being friendly, we
think, and are shocked when the other dog responds in a fearful or
aggressive way.
On Friday, Bear was clearly encroaching on Glindy's space. She
couldn't run away, because she was tied to me. She was afraid, but
not so terrified that she wanted to perform the canine equivalent
of kicking him in the crotch when he got too close. Instead, she
chose to warn him off by saying "You're in my space. You're scaring
me. Please back off!"
In hindsight, the fact that Bear ignored these signals justified
Glindy's fear and anxiety. Bear was clearly not behaving in
accordance with canine social norms, and was behaving in a
socially-threatening way even if his intent was not to cause bodily
harm.
Glindy does not have a lot of canine social graces in her
repertoire either. She rarely gives calming signals to other dogs
in such situations, and her personality doesn't allow her to give
the submissive signals that might otherwise defuse this sort of
situation. The real question is whether it's right to expect her to
do so. Would we expect a person to behave as well as Glindy did
under similar circumstances? I think not.
We sometimes hold our dogs to an unreasonable standard. And
sometimes, even with the best of intentions, it's not clear what we
should do to help. Should I intercede between Glindy and Bear? Does
that reinforce Glindy for growling, or reassure her that I'm in
control of the situation? Who knows?
Or, should I ignore the problem and let the dogs sort themselves
out? Is that fair, when Glindy is literally tied to me and unable
to choose fight or flight for herself? Does ignoring the problem
communicate my ease with the situation, or force Glindy into an
unsuitable leadership role?
These are tough questions. There aren't any clear-cut answers. Both
Glindy and I did the very best we could on Friday, and while we may
not have been perfect, Glindy really is remarkably stable
even under high levels of stress.
It's only in hindsight that I realize how remarkable she was that
evening. I still wish she were more socially graceful, but I'm
proud that she's as resilient and patient as she is.
Good girl, Glindy!