For decades now, every since our culture has become more fragmented, polarized, disconnected, screen-drive and technologically overwhelmed, the almost relentless emotionalizing of animals has continued. I’m not sure animals will survive it. It has led the massive projections of human neuroses onto animals, a spate of dubious behavioral studies claiming that animals are more and more like us, the now -epidemic medicating of dogs and cats for depression and anxiety, the confinement of of millions of animals in inhumane no-kill facilities for years, the deepening idea that work is cruel for working animals, a plethora of books about animals saving people and the growing idea that the main purpose of animals in our world is to be abused and mistreated so we can rescue them and feel better about being human.
Nowhere can this be seen more clearly than when it comes to the subject of animals grieving, it has now and suddenly become an accepted belief that animals grieve the way humans do, that they mourn the way we do and suffer prolonged bouts of depression and anxiety exactly the way human beings do. The best-selling book in the dog world posits that when we die, we will meet all of our animals across a rainbow bridge where they will all be strong and healed and we will play with them for all of eternity. It is quite common now when a dog or cat dies for people to announce their deaths, usually online, and say their pets have gone to the bridge. It is an article of faith that when humans die, their dogs grieve for them, there are statues of border collies all over Europe, most often pining at train stations, waiting for all time for their humans to return.
I have lived with dogs all of my life and with dogs and other animals for nearly two decades, and I have never seen a dog mourn like a human, not for a person, not for another dog. Animals react very sharply to death, they are very aware of it, but they are also aware of the power of life, they adapt, given the chance, they move on, they value life more than they value mourning the loss of it. It is impossible, really, to find the boundary in animals between instinct and emotion. Are those elephants looking for their mates for years because they miss them, or because they have powerful mating instincts and they are driven to find their partners?
Because they don’t speak, animals are empty vessels, we can pour whatever we want into the cup. The carriage horses hate work and yearn for the country. Sheep mourn for the loss of their babies. Dogs can be left alone or in kennels, we have to have them with us every minute, even on vacation. Projection is a vast and all encompassing thing when it comes to animals, once we get started, there is no stopping. No behaviorist ever got money to study the idea that most border collies don’t know a thousand words, that animals don’t have human language or narratives, that animals aren’t like humans, they do not mourn the way we do.
Yesterday Kim lost her lamb, she appeared still-born. Once again, I took the opportunity to observe the animal response to loss. There were scores of very nice messages of sympathy for Kim, they were very nice, many were cast precisely in the nature of messages mourning the loss of human life. I appreciated these messages, they were comforting to me and to Maria. We were grieving the lamb in the human way. Kim was not.
Once again, I saw that animals do not mourn or grieve the way we seem to need them to do. I have seen a lot of death on my farms, Kim was typical. We we came upon the body of her lamb, she races in circles, trying to distract us from her baby, as barn swallows and many birds do. She sniffed the body repeatedly, perhaps hoping to get the lamb to stand up. She rushed to protect the lamb from Red, who came to stand over the body.
Two hours later, we went to check on her, she was eating hay, standing with the flock, nosing the snow to get to anything green. Every now and then, she went to the spot where her lamb died, sniffed it and went back to foraging. By this morning, she was no longer paying any attention to the spot (the afterbirth was still there) no longer looking, sniffing. She was eating heartily, staying with the other sheep, alert for treats or food. There were no signs of any kind of mourning, she was not sluggish, disoriented, distracted.
There is an intense symbiosis, a ballet of sorts between people and animals, especially their pets. They become what we need them to be, that is how they evolve and survive.
Why is it that I have never seen a dog mourn another dog, when I have lost so many dogs? Why have I never had a dog with separation anxiety requiring medication? Why have I never had a dog who needed medication for anxiety, or who can’t be left alone? Is it because I am a wizard or brilliant trainer? I don’t think so. In part, it’s because I don’t believe in those things – there are certainly exceptions – and I do not transmit them to my dogs. If you need to believe your dog can’t bear to be left alone while you go to work, then it will very likely come to pass. If you think your dog is profoundly depressed when you go shopping, you can make it true. If you are sure your dog is pining away for the cat or dog you just lost, it could very well happen. You will find a way to see it.
My animals have taught me about acceptance, not mourning, about adaptability, not grieving. I admire Kim, like the dogs and donkeys and so many other animals before, she understands and accepts the nature of life, she does not dwell on the loss of it, not even her own lamb. We will have a ram again in the fall, she will have another chance to be a mother, I bet she will make it one day.
In the meantime, I am ever vigilant to respect animals for what they are, not for what I need them to be. It is a hard thing, the boundaries are always fuzzy and gray. To me, it is the foundation of the wiser and more mystical concept of understanding animals that Henry Beston wrote about years ago. They are different from us, that is their wonder and glory.