DOGS have been "man's best friend" for 30,000 years or more,
since the friendliest and most curious wolves began to be adopted
as our companions. Flopping in front of the TV last week, I
discovered what an appalling cost human friendship has sometimes
been for dogs: a significant proportion of our canine pets become
severely stressed when they are left at home alone by their
owners.
Cameras placed in homes showed anxious dogs pacing to and from
the front door, gazing desperately out of the window, howling and
yowling like souls in torment. Tests showed the presence of the
stress-hormone cortisol. Some of the owners were reduced to tears
when they saw the playback.
It is often assumed that we domesticated the dog, but a recent
article in National Geographic Daily News suggests that
the dogs took the initiative, and adopted us. The wolves that
became dogs not only liked us, but became extraordinarily adept at
reading our faces and feeling our feelings. So they hitched
themselves to our evolutionary wagon, and have been around us ever
since.
They have not always been welcomed. Think of Psalm 59, where it
is the wicked and violent who "grin like a dog and go about the
city". Last week's programme suggested that modern dogs could do
with a bit more self-reliance, and suggested how their owners might
help them cope with their distressing levels of anxiety.
I am not a dog-owner, but I was moved by the plight of the
domestic dog and its need for human company. It made me think about
how chancy the path of evolution is, and how its consequences can
be happy or disastrous. There is a commonly held view that "nature"
is somehow independent of the human species, and that the best we
can do for it is to minimise our effects on it. We blame ourselves
for the extinction of species, losing sight of fact that although
we exploit, we are also exploited, not only by domestic animals but
by all sorts of bugs and parasites, funghi and bacteria who find us
convenient.
The theologian Matthew Fox sometimes said that everything alive
in the universe eats or is eaten by something. This is shocking,
but it is also sacramental. We live from others' lives. We give for
others' lives. Wolves became dogs because of us. Now we need to
save them from losing their dogginess. It is only fair: they give
us a quality of faithfulness which we only sometimes give each
other.
The Revd Angela Tilby is Diocesan Canon of Christ Church,
Oxford, and Continuing Ministerial Development Adviser for the
diocese of Oxford.