Читать книгу The Dog Listener: Learning the Language of your Best Friend - Monty Roberts, Jan Fennell - Страница 11

I realise now that fortune was smiling on me at this time. If I had not begun expanding my own pack of dogs, I am sure I would never have seen what I did. By this time my pack was reduced to a quartet of dogs: Khan, Susie and Sandy, and a beagle I had taken in, called Kim. They were a fun foursome, a wonderful mixture of characters. By now, however, I was entering another new phase in my life. I had no ties, the kids were grown up and I had just lost my parents. Free to think about what I wanted to do, I decided to welcome a beautiful, black German shepherd puppy called Sasha into my home.

I had always liked the idea of owning a German shepherd even though they’re a breed that has had a bad press. People see them as police dogs, aggressive animals that are always attacking people, which is, of course, far removed from the truth. We stereotype dogs just the same way as we pigeonhole people. All German shepherds are aggressive, all spaniels are stupid or all beagles are wanderers – we have all heard it. Yet it is just as ignorant as saying all Frenchmen wear berets or all Mexicans walk around in sombreros: it is nonsense. My reluctance to take on a German shepherd was nothing to do with this. I quite simply didn’t think I was good enough to work with this kind of dog. I had heard a lot about their immense intelligence, about how you have to challenge their brains, give them something to think about. I always felt I didn’t have the time, the patience and certainly the knowledge to handle one. Now, perhaps, I did.

Sasha’s arrival in my home marked a major turning point. After watching Monty in action, I knew that I had to follow his example and observe very closely what my dogs were doing. I had to stop thinking I knew best and start watching them. As I did so, the benefits were not long in coming. Sasha was a young and incredibly energetic dog. My other dogs reacted to this exuberant new presence in different ways. The beagle, Kim, would simply ignore her. Khan, on the other hand, was quite content playing with the newcomer. He did not mind at all that Sasha would follow him everywhere, sticking like glue day and night. It was Sandy, my son Tony’s cocker spaniel, who had the problems.

From the moment Sasha arrived in the house, Sandy made it plain that she hated this newcomer. Sandy to be fair was getting on, she was twelve years old by now, and she simply didn’t want this energetic young kid leaping all over her. At first she tried ignoring her by turning her head from side to side, which was sometimes difficult because Sasha at the age of ten weeks was bigger than Sandy. When this didn’t work she began making this low grizzling sound and curling her lip so that Sasha would back off.

As I sat down and wondered about what was going on here I realised it was something I had seen before in another dog of mine, one of my original springer spaniels, Donna, or The Duchess as she became known. As her name suggests, there was something regal about Donna. When she moved around the house everyone had to move out of the way. I remember on one occasion my mother arrived and sat down in the armchair which Donna used. Donna had been lying there quite happily curled up. The moment my mother sat next to her she lifted herself up, looked up indignantly and pushed her off the edge. My mother ended up on the floor. When she got up and sat there again the same thing happened. Donna pushed her off again. At the time, of course, we thought it was hilarious.

As I watched Sasha and Sandy I realised I was seeing something similar happening again. I had seen this in the past without realising what I was watching. Now, however, it was as if I was witnessing things for the first time. It was fairly obvious what was going on here: Sandy like Donna was trying to show who was the boss, it was to do with a status of some kind.

The next thing I noticed was the very intense performance my dogs would go through whenever they came together. If, for instance, I took Sasha to the vet for an injection, each time she came home she would immediately go through this performance. I didn’t know what to call it at the time but now I would say it was a ritualised greeting. There would be a lot of her licking all the other dogs’ faces with her ears pinned back: it always happened.

At first it didn’t make much sense to me. In Sasha’s case I didn’t know whether to put it down to youthful exuberance, her newness to the group or some habitual thing she had picked up before arriving in my home. Luckily Sasha’s inspiration was not confined to her actions. In her looks she reminded me very much of a wolf. I had read a little about wolf packs in the past but she made me think about it more closely.

I got out some videos on wolves, dingoes and wild dogs and was amazed when I immediately saw this same sort of behaviour. I was fascinated to see that in situation after situation they too went through this same ritualised greeting. I was fairly sure this was something to do with social status. That hunch solidified as I looked further into the mechanics of the wolf pack, a community in which everything revolves around the leaders – or the Alpha pair.

I will look at the Alpha pair in more detail later. For now I will simply explain that the two Alpha wolves are the strongest, healthiest, most intelligent and most experienced members of the pack. Their status is maintained by the fact that they are the only members of the pack who breed, thus ensuring only the healthiest genes survive. The key point here is that the Alpha pair dominate and dictate every aspect of pack life. The remainder of the pack accept the Alpha pair’s rule and defer to them without question. Below the leading pair, each subordinate member is content to know its vital place and function within this pecking order.

Watching films on wolves, it was obvious that the ritual greetings I was watching were all related to the wolves that seemed to be the Alpha pair. The wolves who seemed to be in charge did not lick the faces of the other wolves – the others all licked their faces. This licking was very specific in nature too, it was almost frantic and concentrated on the face. There were other clues in the body language too. The Alphas had a confidence level, an attitude, they carried themselves differently physically, most noticeably they carried their tails much higher than the others. The subordinates sent out their signals too. Some would simply drop their bodies below their leaders. Some wolves, presumably the younger and lower-ranking subordinates, would not even come that far forward, they would hang back. It was as if only some of the dogs were entitled to lick the leader, some of them were not.

Again I quickly realised I had seen this before. The Duchess, my dog Donna, had carried herself in exactly the same imperious way. But it was when I went back to my pack at the time that the similarities really struck home. I immediately began seeing the same thing again. I saw it was as though there were kings, knights and servants. It was clear that the lower-order dogs were being put in their place by those above them, just as within the wolf pack. I had never made the connection before. Suddenly I saw that dogs were the same. It was a huge step forward for me.

Again it was Sasha who provided the most powerful proof. It was clear to me by now, for instance, that she had acquired a higher status within the pack. She had grown enough in size and confidence to ignore Sandy’s protestations. Sandy at the same time had become more resigned about matters. She would tip her head away, dip her carriage and her tail.

The power shift was most obvious at playtime. When I threw the ball or whatever toy we were using, it would be Sasha’s job to recover it. The others would follow it and bound around it when it landed, but there was no argument over whose role it was to retrieve the ball. And if another dog came near her once she had picked it up, Sasha would give them a little look, her whole body language would shout: ‘It’s mine, now back off.’

Sandy’s body language in comparison was submissive, her body dropped lower and lower as this interaction went on. Sandy had in effect given up the fight and allowed Sasha to impose herself as the head of the pack. The younger dog had, if you like, staged a bloodless coup.

Of course my dogs were not always displaying such intriguing behaviour. There were times when they were happy in their own company. I began to understand that this hierarchy was being reinforced at particular times only. So the next step was to work out exactly when this communication was going on.

I noticed that this would happen with me whenever I got home. Watching the dogs more closely, however, I saw that the same sort of behaviour was repeated with me whenever somebody else came to the front door. As the visitor came in, the dogs would crowd around me. They would get very excited, rush to the door, rush around people. All the time they were doing this, they would be interacting, repeating this ritualised behaviour. I saw the same thing again when I got the dogs’ leads out and we got ready for a walk. All the dogs would get excited and agitated, jumping up and down and again interacting with each other as we got ready to leave the house.

Once more, I studied the wolf pack and once more I saw the same thing. In the wolves’ case this behaviour was occurring as the pack got ready to go on a hunt. There was a lot of running around and jostling for position, but ultimately it was the Alpha pair whose heads remained erect and their tail carriage high. And it was always they who led the pack away in search of the prey.

I realised the wolves were re-establishing who was in charge here. The leader was reminding the rest that it was his role to lead and theirs to follow. This was the pecking order and they must abide by it to survive. Clearly my pack was doing the same. What really interested me at this point, however, was my inclusion in all this. From the way my dogs were reacting around me it was clear that I was somehow part of this process. And of all my dogs, none was so keen to involve me in the process as Sasha.

If we were going out of the house, Sasha would invariably stand in front of me. She would place herself in a position, across my body, blocking me off. Although I could hold her back with my chain she always wanted to go ahead of me. She seemed to think it was natural for her to go forward first. Equally, if there was a loud noise or an unexpected event while we were out on a walk, such as another dog appearing in front of us, she would stand in front of me in a very protective stance. She would also bark more furiously than the others when someone went past the house in view or when the postman or milkman came to the door. And unlike the others, there seemed to be no calming her in these situations.

If I am honest about it, part of me was worried about this behaviour. It reminded me a little of Purdey who also had this habit of running around in front of me. For a while part of me feared I might let my dog down again. Fortunately this time, however, I saw what was going on. Again, memories of Donna provided a first clue. I recalled how she had behaved years earlier when I had fostered a little baby boy, Shaun. Whenever he lay on his blanket on the floor, Donna would lie next to him with her leg over his leg. If he kicked it off she would move it back. She was clearly acting as his protector, guarding over him at all times. It was now that I realised that, just as Donna had felt the little baby was her responsibility, somehow Sasha must also be feeling she had a role to perform in looking after me. Why else would I be given such specific treatment when I came in through the door or when greeting visitors? Why else would she get so hyperactive about my leading her out on a walk?

I realise now that so many of my mistakes were down to human conditioning. Like almost every other person on this planet, I had assumed that the world revolved around our particular species, and that every other species had somehow fitted into our grand scheme. I had assumed that because I owned the dogs, then I had to be their leader too. Now, for the first time, I began to wonder if that really was the case. I began to wonder whether Sasha was trying to take care of me.

All of the information I was getting from my dogs was powerful. But this to me was the most explosive knowledge of all. It made me completely re-evaluate my thinking. And it was then that the penny began to drop. I thought: ‘Hold on, what if I am looking at this the wrong way around? What if I am imposing a rather arrogant, presumptuous – and typically human – framework on this? What if, instead, I imagine it from a dog’s point of view and rather than thinking it is dependent on us, the dog thinks the exact opposite, that it is responsible for us? What if it believes it is the leader of a pack in which we too are subordinates? What if it believes it is its job to safeguard our welfare rather than the other way around?’ As I thought about it, so much suddenly locked into place.

I thought of separation anxiety. Instead of looking at a dog that was worrying ‘Where’s my mum or dad?’ we had a dog worrying ‘Where’s my damned kids?’ If you had a two-year-old and realised you didn’t know where it was, wouldn’t you be going insane with worry? Dogs were not destroying the house through boredom: it was through sheer panic. When your dog jumps up at you when you come in, it is not because it wants to play with you, it is because it is welcoming you back to the pack that it believes it is in charge of.

In many ways I felt a fool. I had made the mistake we humans make all too often in our dealings with animals. I had assumed my dogs did not have their own language, how could they – they lived with us? I had assumed that they understood they were living with me in a domestic situation. It had not occurred to me to think the rules they were playing by had been dictated to them in the wild. In short, I had imposed human constraints on them: I had allowed familiarity to breed contempt. I can’t say the idea came to me in one blinding flash, there was no apple falling from a tree or a bolt of lightning in the sky, but from that moment my entire philosophy changed.