The Personalities of Dogs
Apr. 15th, 2004 08:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stoutfellowA dog, they tell us, is an affectionate creature, needing its human's love. Such a simple assertion.
I brought home my senior dog, Murphy, just after he had been weaned. Like his basset-hound mother, he is a fairly placid animal. He likes being petted, and stroked, and belly-rubbed, but he is undemanding about it. He will come over and sit or lie down near me, and if I begin to pet him he will luxuriate in it, turning and rolling to present favored areas. But if I do not pet him, or if I stop, he is content to lie below, or beside, or, on occasion, on top of me.
My junior dog, Ben, I found at the local Humane Society. Their documents claimed that he was six months old, but I suspect he was older than that. When we came home, he was a nervous fellow - he is a terrier, after all - and seemed rather insecure. (There's a story there, but it would distract from the main point, so I'll defer it.) When Ben wants petting, there is no mistaking it. He'll bump me with his head; he will slap the ground (or bed, or couch) with an extended paw; he will slither his head under an unoccupied hand. Yet, when the petting is done - or if no petting is forthcoming - he will leave, perhaps to wait for a more convenient time.
Dogs need love. But how differently they express this! Murphy, I think, simply trusts in me; he has known no other keeper, and is secure. Ben is at the same time more demanding and more aloof; he wants affection, but is afraid of rejection. How much of the difference is a matter of breed? How much, the time of life when they came to me? And how much arises from their upbringing? Ben had another human before me; Murphy did not.
Such a simple assertion...
I brought home my senior dog, Murphy, just after he had been weaned. Like his basset-hound mother, he is a fairly placid animal. He likes being petted, and stroked, and belly-rubbed, but he is undemanding about it. He will come over and sit or lie down near me, and if I begin to pet him he will luxuriate in it, turning and rolling to present favored areas. But if I do not pet him, or if I stop, he is content to lie below, or beside, or, on occasion, on top of me.
My junior dog, Ben, I found at the local Humane Society. Their documents claimed that he was six months old, but I suspect he was older than that. When we came home, he was a nervous fellow - he is a terrier, after all - and seemed rather insecure. (There's a story there, but it would distract from the main point, so I'll defer it.) When Ben wants petting, there is no mistaking it. He'll bump me with his head; he will slap the ground (or bed, or couch) with an extended paw; he will slither his head under an unoccupied hand. Yet, when the petting is done - or if no petting is forthcoming - he will leave, perhaps to wait for a more convenient time.
Dogs need love. But how differently they express this! Murphy, I think, simply trusts in me; he has known no other keeper, and is secure. Ben is at the same time more demanding and more aloof; he wants affection, but is afraid of rejection. How much of the difference is a matter of breed? How much, the time of life when they came to me? And how much arises from their upbringing? Ben had another human before me; Murphy did not.
Such a simple assertion...
