The Moment You Realize Your Dog Is Actually An Animal
There are moments when we look at dogs, Lewie and Moses, and honestly forget that they are dogs.
They are family. They lie on our couch, ride in our car, go on our vacations and are woven into the rhythm of our days. We buy them special food, worry about whether they’re comfortable, rearrange our schedules around them and, in many cases, give them a pretty significant amount of real estate in our beds. We talk to them like they understand every word we’re saying. And sometimes we are sure they do! ‘
We humanize them because, to us, they’re not just animals. They are our fur children. Our companions. Our best friends. And then one day you walk outside and find your best friend with a mouthful of baby bunnies.
That was Moses.
Moses is the kind of dog who carries himself with a certain dignity. A 145-pound gentleman. Distinguished. Sweet. Gentle. Thoughtful.
Moses, acting so sophisticated
And, apparently, also a bunny hunter. We can still remember the shock of realizing what he had done. There was a moment of complete disbelief, followed quickly by the realization: Oh. Right. He’s an animal.
And now, during bunny season, we conduct a quick reconnaissance mission of the yard before Moses is allowed outside.
Then there was our Lab Indy. Indy once found a dead seagull on the beach and ate it.
Not sniffed it.
Not licked it.
Ate it.
And we were horrified.
Indy, circa 1999, ready to eat anything she can sniff out
Lewie, meanwhile, has never met a dead fish he didn’t think would make an excellent cologne. Nothing brings you back to the reality of your dog’s animal nature faster than watching your beloved family member enthusiastically roll his body all over something that has been decomposing in the sun.
Lewie, looking like he smells something fishy
And maybe that’s part of what makes living with dogs so fascinating. We’ve brought them completely into our human world. They know the sound of the treat cabinet opening. They recognize the word “walk.” They know exactly which piece of furniture belongs to them, despite the fact that we paid for it. They can even tell time by knowing exactly when their dinner should be served.
But underneath all of that domestication, there is an animal in there. An animal that hunts. An animal that scavenges. An animal that occasionally thinks something dead smells absolutely fantastic.
We can buy them cute collars, let them sleep under the covers, and refer to ourselves as their parents all we want, but every once in a while, they’re going to remind us: I love you. I am part of your family…and like it or not, I am still an animal.