Merry, Nala, & Rocky: Pack Mentality

Merry (left), Rocky (centre), and Nala (right)

Consider this…

We say that the dog is man’s best friend, but what if the dog is the dog’s best friend?

Could it be possible that dogs might love something as much as, or more, than us?! (Is that shrieking indignation I hear?)

These thoughts come to me happily in thinking about my own three dogs: Merry, Rocky, and Nala. Society tends to believe that we are our dogs’ world - that their lives do and should revolve completely around us/the human - but when you witness dogs living together as a pack you begin to question these base assumptions. New, far more joyful ideas about canine lives and how they could happily be led suddenly begin to emerge out of the gloom of egocentric humanism …

This is what you need to know: Merry, Rocky and Nala move and speak and come at the world as a whole. They understand each other on a level that I cannot comprehend in my own (tragically) dog-less self. I think that there are things that your body, in its divine design, is hardwired to do and know (like crying human tears when we feel sad and feeling love and smiling) and dog bodies, as such, see each other in their own particular sense of reality. Some of it we might manage to understand with diligent investigation, and some of it I suspect is an intangible feeling and knowing that we’ll never grasp (or at least not until that divine day when some human finds a way to become a dog).

Consequently, in our household there is always a level of communication that is mysterious and fascinating and endlessly confusing to human onlookers. It is a humbling, wonderful thing, of which I will list a few examples:

I’ll sometimes see Merry and Rocky sitting together quite still whilst Merry gently licks the inside of Rocky’s ear and I’ll wonder at their companionship. Does he like it when she does that? How does it not tickle? Why does she never lick Nala’s ears?

We watch the dogs wordlessly negotiate who gets to sleep on which pillow in the kitchen with great diplomacy. No one ever shares (heaven forbid) or fights for a spot, although certain places clearly get occupied faster than others when someone leaves … Why do the dogs choose to sleep, if not with, but within a stone’s throw of each other? Do they feel uncomfortable when they are apart? Why does Nala - clear leader of the pack - never use her authority to try to nab a favourite place? Maybe/probably dogs don’t have the bitter sharp thing in them which drives humans to argue over such petty things.

When one dog has been separated from the pack and returns, they stand and let the others sniff and lick and circle circle around them until all parties are satisfied. From my position on the outside, I ask: What are they saying to each other? What did they feel when they were separated? The enthusiasm with which they always welcome each other back home looks a lot like genuine joy in my eyes.

The only time the dogs do ever get into conflict is in the all-important game of fetch. This is where Nala asserts her position as matriarch, as time after time she growls a frustrated, barking Merry out of the way (Rocky, knowing the way of things, has decided not to participate in the game of fetch at all) and collects all of the toys happily around her. She is queen on a throne of sticks and plastic bones.

However, when it comes to the dog relations in our home my personal favourite is watching the play. Dog play is simply pure joy, total chaos, ultimate expression, maximum gain. Merry will whine and growl and grunt as she wrestles with Rocky, and it’s all exaggerated, mock movements which are endless drama (the fun kind).

The relationship between Merry, Nala, and Rocky communicates to me the importance of canine companionship for dogs. It is the rich, colourful, gooey caramel centre of a fulfilled canine life, and it makes our shared human-dog lives so much exciting for all the guesswork and observation. Sadly, our placement of ourselves as the centre of things - the assumption that we are oftentimes all our dogs need in our lives - puts us in danger of forgetting this face of canine love.

True, some dogs do not enjoy the company of other dogs, and this might be down to innate individual personality. But it also might be the result of lack of early socialisation … or the fact that each interaction with another dog for the most part occurs at the end of a tight leash … or misinformed (if well-meaning) human meddling in and strict facilitation of canine communication…

Do we set dogs up to fail?

This is how I see the facts: humans are social creatures, which is why we get along so well with dogs. But a human would likely not choose only to interact socially with a dog; no matter if a person is interacting with hundreds or thousands of gorgeous slobbery dogs filled with goodwill, I suspect that they would feel something was missing. Is it really so unreasonable to think that a dog, even when surrounded by loving human family, might also find something missing? That a dog might be broken in some way by being denied this basic right? Does the dog dream of dog and not man?

Basically, in an anthropocentric world - that is, where the human is valued above all else - I wonder if there is room for ‘man’s best friend’ to love in all capacities.

I love Merry, Nala, and Rocky and I am confident that they also love their human companions, but I am also happy that they love each other and that we are just one part of their growing, snowballing, interminable love for the world.