Dog is love Why and how your dog loves you

Review by Booklist Review

Do dogs love us? Or are they just beholden to us for food and shelter? Any dog lover will stand by the former assertion, but animal behaviorist Wynne wanted definitive answers. His quest led him to read all available research, visit wolf centers, and conduct his own experiments. The studies are interesting, particularly those in which dogs' brains are studied when given a choice between human interaction (with praise) or food rewards. Overwhelmingly, dogs prefer human interaction, and based on MRIs, they are making these choices in the same part of the brain where they choose edible treats. Wynne's investigations further showed that hormones and a dog's genetic code also play large roles in their desire for human contact. His relentless search for answers leads him to conclude what all dog lovers know: Dogs desire to form close connections, to have warm personal relationships. How wolves became interested in humans is still largely conjecture, but that may be the subject of a future book. For any scientifically inclined dog lover, this will be a fascinating read.--Joan Curbow Copyright 2019 Booklist

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.

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Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

Wynne, an Arizona State University psychology professor and founding director of the school's Canine Science Collaboratory, argues that "dogs' love is the cornerstone of the dog-human relationship" in his entertaining first book. He challenges previous theories positing that dogs enjoyed their "special relationship with humans" thanks to a "unique form of intelligence" allowing them to understand human "communicative intentions." In one experiment, Wynne and his colleagues found evidence that wolves raised by humans can manifest this same trait, conveying to him that the dog-human bond rests on a different foundation. In another experiments, they led a dog into a room to find its owner in one spot and a bowl of food in another; the result suggested that "most dogs prefer to be with their person [to being] fed." Wynne also recounts the research of others, including fMRIs of dog brain activity during interactions with owners. The book only falters with Wynne's overly ambitious assertion that emotions as humans know them translate directly into canines' lived experience. But dog lovers will be fascinated and the takeaway message that "we can do better for our dogs," by keeping in mind that dogs feel a meaningful emotional connection to their human owners and thus should be treated respectfully and considerately, is solidly supported. (Sept.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

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Review by Library Journal Review

This entry in the growing category of books examining the human-dog relationship is solidly supported by current research coming out of the Canine Science Collaboratory at Arizona State University. Canine behaviorist Wynne draws not only on studies conducted in his laboratory, but includes research from other scientists and institutions as evidenced in 13 pages of notes and references. Following a brief reminiscence about his exposure to pets as a child, the author dives into his thesis: What if dogs don't have cognitive abilities that enable them to understand humans (the longstanding opinion), but instead have some ability that hasn't been defined yet? Wynne believes that anthropomorphizing our animals is permissible and proper, and that ignoring our dogs' need for love is as unethical as mistreating them in other ways. The bond of love between dog and owner is strikingly similar to that found between couples. VERDICT After reading this book, readers may not perceive their relationship with their dog in the same way. Engagingly written and understandable by general audiences, this is a worthy addition to any pet lover's library. [See Prepub Alert, 3/4/19.]--Edell Marie Schaefer, Brookfield P.L., WI

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Review by Kirkus Book Review

The founding director at the Canine Science Collaboratory at Arizona State University probes the bonds of affection between humans and dogs.For 15,000 years, humans and dogs have been living side by side. However, as Wynne makes clear in this pleasingly garrulous and jocular report from the front lines of canine research, we are only beginning to understand how our minds have intertwined over that duration. "Dogs have an exaggerated, ebullient, perhaps even excessive capacity to form affectionate relationships with members of other species," writes the author. "This capacity is so great that, if we saw it in one of our own kind, we would consider it quite strangepathological, even. In my scientific writing, where I am obliged to use technical language, I call this abnormal behavior hypersociability. But as a dog lover who cares deeply about animals and their welfare, I see absolutely no reason we shouldn't just call it love." This may seem imprecise, and borders on anthropomorphism, but Wynne has found that evidence coming from labsevidence in the forms of genes that code for loving behavior, brain states that register and direct affection, and hormones that match the activity found in our own species when we feel loveand animal sanctuaries suggests that dogs feel affection much the way that humans do. This love doesn't require special cognitive abilities. It is innate in the creatures and then is shaped by the environment to be expressed, hopefully, as a warm bondthough if the dog is ill-treated, it will manifest in antisocial behavior. Of particular importance to Wynne is what this means in terms of how we interact and care for dogs. It is our responsibility to treat them with respect because they deserve it, and both of us will be greater creatures for it. A good mix of science and emotion, recommended for dog lovers everywhere. Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

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RECENTLY I TOOK some time away from my adopted country, the United States, to visit my native England. It was wintertime, late afternoon, and the sun had already finished its short duty for the day. Along with thousands of others returning home from their day's work in the city, I was coming down the steps at a train station in the outer suburbs of London. These Victorian stations must have looked grand when they were built, and some of them still do in summer light, but at the end of a cold, dank day like this one, they are distinctly depressing: the old, dark red bricks illuminated only by dim and flickering fluorescent lights, the whole triumphant setting infused with the miserable mood of the weary commuter.   As if the scene were not dismal enough, suddenly the station rang out with the urgent barks of a dog. Down at the bottom of the steps, just behind the barriers that prevent people from getting on the trains without a ticket, a young woman--a child, really--was holding on with all her might to one end of a leash. Its other end held a small but noisy and highly energetic dog, most likely a terrier of some kind. This little dog was yapping up a considerable storm.   My immediate unconscious reaction was irritation: an annoying soundtrack had been added to an already gloomy scene. But as I got closer and saw how happy this dog was, an involuntary smile crept across my face.   The dog had recognized somebody in the great human crowd. As that person got closer, the dog's barking morphed from an angry snapping into a sort of happy, almost-howling cry. Her claws skidded over the smooth floor as she struggled to get to her human. When the man was through the ticket barrier, the dog jumped up into his arms and kissed his face. I was only a little way behind and heard the man cooing to the dog to calm her down: "It's OK, it's OK--I'm back now."   Looking around, I saw the whole sea of human faces mirroring my own emotional reaction. First irritation--another tedious burden added to the tired tail end of the day--then involuntary happiness at the dog's love for his master. Smiles spread across the crowd; here and there, gentle laughter followed. People who were traveling with companions exchanged nudges and a few words. The majority of solo travelers tucked their smiles back into their pockets, but a light spring in their steps remained as a reminder of the unexpected small pleasure they had experienced at the station on their way home.   As I took in this happy scene, I was transported in memory to one of my first trips back to the UK after I had first left its shores over thirty years ago. Back then, our family dog, Benji, was still alive. My mother drove to the train station on the Isle of Wight, where I grew up, to collect me, with Benji sitting up alert on the front passenger seat. Since people in the UK drive on the left side of the street, in British cars the positions of driver and front passenger are reversed, compared to those in the United States. This meant that, to my tired and jetlagged eyes, accustomed to seeing drivers where now Benji sat, my dog appeared to be driving the car. My confusion barely had time to register when the car pulled up at the curb, and I opened the passenger door to meet Benji's paroxysm of joy at seeing me again. As soon as he saw me, Benji went crazy with pleasure, just like the terrier at the train station many years later--and just like me, although I kept my emotions under tighter control.   At first glance, Benji may not have seemed particularly special; he was just a fairly small black-and-tan shelter mutt. But he was very special to us. Dabs of sandy-brown color around his eyebrows made his eyes especially expressive--particularly when he was puzzled. We loved teasing him, and he seemed to take all our pranking in good spirit. He could prick up his ears to show curiosity. With his tail he could express happiness and confidence, and he showed his affection with licks from his tongue (which felt like wet sandpaper and elicited protests from my brothers and me, although we felt honored by his attention).   Benji, my brothers, and I all grew up together in the 1970s on the Isle of Wight, off the south coast of England. When my younger brother and I came home from school, we usually would plunk ourselves down on the sofa, whereupon we would hear and then see Benji racing in from the back garden. Excerpted from Dog Is Love: Why and How Your Dog Loves You by Clive D. L. Wynne All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

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