{"product_id":"for-the-love-of-a-dog-isbn-9780345477156","title":"For the Love of a Dog","description":"\u003cb\u003eThe renowned author of \u003ci\u003eThe Other End of the Leash \u003c\/i\u003e“sheds new light on the emotional lives of animals” (\u003ci\u003eThe Washington Post\u003c\/i\u003e) in this thoughtful and engaging exploration of man’s best friend.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e“Compelling . . . a wonderful blend of scientific knowledge, stories about real dogs and their behavior, and scenes from the author’s life with her own dogs . . . [\u003ci\u003eFor the Love of a Dog\u003c\/i\u003e] will make you think—but it will also touch your heart.”—Associated Press\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor those of us who deeply cherish our dogs but are often baffled by their behavior, \u003ci\u003eFor the Love of a Dog \u003c\/i\u003eis a revelation—offering dog owners everywhere a new understanding of the complex web of emotions that sometimes bind, and other times damage, our relationship with dogs. As animal behaviorist and zoologist Dr. Patricia McConnell tells us in this remarkable book, more and more scientists accept the premise that dogs have rich emotional lives, exhibiting a wide range of feelings, including fear, anger, surprise, sadness, and love. McConnell suggests that dogs express emotions in ways similar to humans, and shows us how to read the more subtle expressions hidden behind fuzzy faces and floppy ears.\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003eThose who consider their dogs part of the family will find \u003ci\u003eFor the Love of a Dog \u003c\/i\u003eengaging, enlightening, and utterly engrossing. Packed with informed speculation and intriguing accounts of man’s best friend at his worst and at his very best, this book is a treasure trove that will teach us how to have a richer, more rewarding relationship with our dogs.Advance praise for For the Love of a Dog\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“For the Love of a Dog is a wonderful book. Fine, balanced, charming, it is sure to appeal to all dog fans whose numbers seem to be increasing (and rightly so) by the day. I read it with great delight.”\u003cbr\u003e–Jeffrey Moussaieff Masson, Ph.D., author of Dogs Never Lie About Love\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A step-by-step guide on how to interpret how your dog feels by reading his facial expressions and body posture. A marvelous book that everybody who loves dogs should own.”\u003cbr\u003e–Temple Grandin, author of Animals in Translation \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Brilliant! For The Love of a Dog is a perfect balance of science and soul. These stories will either keep you up reading long into the night knowing that with your dogs, you love and are loved, need and are needed.”\u003cbr\u003e–Dr. Marty Becker, resident veterinarian on ABC’s Good Morning America and author of Fitness Unleashed!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A fascinating, highly educational read. McConnell alternates between expressing empathy with our canine friends and taking a step back to explain the scientific limits of any attempt to get into their heads.”\u003cbr\u003e–Frans de Waal, author of Our Inner Ape\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Patricia McConnell skillfully blends cutting edge scientific data with examples from her personal experiences with dogs to produce a clear picture of the emotional life of dogs. In the process we learn more about how the mind of a dog works, and how to better understand and interact with them. This is a ‘must read’ for all dog owners.”\u003cbr\u003e–Stanley Coren, author of The Intelligence of Dogs and How Dogs Think\u003cb\u003ePatricia McConnell, Ph.D., CAAB\u003c\/b\u003e is an ethologist and certified applied animal behaviorist who has consulted with cat and dog lovers for more twenty-two years. She combines a thorough understanding of the science of behavior with years of practical, applied experience. Her nationally syndicated radio show, \u003ci\u003eCalling All Pets, \u003c\/i\u003eplayed in more than 110 cities for fourteen years and her television show \u003ci\u003ePetline\u003c\/i\u003e played on \u003ci\u003eAnimal Planet\u003c\/i\u003e for two and a half years. She was the behavior columnist for \u003ci\u003eThe Bark\u003c\/i\u003e magazine (“\u003ci\u003eThe New Yorker\u003c\/i\u003e of dog magazines”—\u003ci\u003eTime\u003c\/i\u003e) and is adjunct professor in Zoology at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, teaching “The Biology and Philosophy of Human\/Animal Relationships.” Dr. McConnell is a much sought-after speaker and seminar presenter, speaking to training organizations, veterinary conferences, academic meetings, and animal shelters around the world about dog and cat behavior, and on science-based and humane solutions to serious behavioral problems. She is the author of thirteen books on training and behavioral problems, as well as the critically acclaimed books \u003ci\u003eThe Other End of the Leash \u003c\/i\u003e(translated into fourteen languages), \u003ci\u003eFor the Love of a Dog, \u003c\/i\u003eand\u003ci\u003e Tales of Two Species\u003c\/i\u003e. She lives with her Border Collies, Willie and Maggie, her rescue Cavalier Spaniel, Tootsie, and a very spoiled flock of sheep, and suffers from separation anxiety when she leaves them.EMOTIONS\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    An explanation of emotions,  and why they are so controversial in animals\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e      At first, all I saw was a white blur out of the corner of my eye. It was a  long way away, maybe five hundred yards, and initially I wasn’t sure what  it was. Most of my focus was on my Border Collie Luke, who was running   his fastest about two hundred yards away. I’d sent him on a long out-  run toward a flock of sheep during a “fun day,” when herding enthusiasts get together and revel in dogs and sheep and the sloppy kisses of  young puppies.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Many people there that day were serious competitors in herding dog trials,  and were grateful for the opportunity to hone their skills away from home.  Luke and I, however, were there just for the pure joy of it. We loved  working together, Luke and I, finessing sheep gently and quietly across  the countryside. A classic workaholic, Luke loved working sheep so much he  had no interest in food, tennis balls, or even bitches in heat when there  was a job to do. For me, watching my trustworthy black-and-white dog doing  a perfect outrun on an emerald-green hill made my heart get bigger and my  soul feel full. That’s how I was feeling that morning as I watched my good  old dog run perfectly and reliably toward the woolies on the far hill.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    But all my feelings changed as I realized that the white blur running  toward Luke was a hundred-and-twenty-pound working Great Pyrenees who had  escaped temporary confinement and was barreling down on Luke to protect  his flock. We were on a large, isolated farm with several dispersed flocks  of sheep—a smorgasbord to the coyotes and stray dogs that commonly roam  the countryside. Many of us in southern Wisconsin need working guard dogs  to keep our flocks safe, and this farm had two of them. Unlike my guard  dog, Tulip, who now protects the farm from the living room couch, these  dogs lived exclusively with the flock, and were serious to the bone about  killing anything that threatened their sheep.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    As I watched the guard dog run toward Luke, my feelings of joyful  fulfillment were transformed into abject terror. The thought that I was  about to watch my dog being attacked and possibly killed overwhelmed me. I  love Luke so much it almost hurts.In Dog Is My Co-pilot, in an essay  about why we love dogs so much, I said about Luke: “And I still love him  so deeply and completely that I imagine his death to be as if all the  oxygen in the air disappeared, and I was left to try to survive without  it.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Horrified at what I thought was about to happen, I screamed, “The guard  dog is out, the guard dog is out!” Stating the obvious wasn’t going to  solve the problem, but it seemed to be all I could do. For the longest  second imaginable, my mind was a black hole, as if my emotions had sucked  away the rational part of my brain and left a cavernous skull full of  nothing but fear. I can remember that terror now, and can visualize the  scene as if in a photograph: emerald-green pasture, black-and-white Luke  in full stride just where he ought to be, and a white bullet of doom  streaking across the grass toward him.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    But what of Luke? What went through his mind as he dashed through in the  grass with a canine hitman running toward him? Was he as scared as I was?  And if he was, how much did his version of being scared resemble mine?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Luke and I were best friends, just as many dogs and humans are best  friends all over the world. As friends do, we shared long cool walks in  shady forests, tasty dinners of roast chicken or lamb, and long sleepy  cuddles on the couch in the depth of winter. We shared hard times loading  wild-eyed market lambs on to the truck, getting lost on back highways late  at night while traveling, and making mistakes while working sheep that  cost us valuable time, energy, and on occasion, a blue ribbon at a herding  dog trial. We played together, worked together, comforted each other, and had an occasional spat. In many ways,  our lives were bound together as tightly as the lives of two human best  friends.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    But all those experiences don’t say much about how we experienced the  world inside our heads. We may have shared external experiences like walks  in the woods and napping on the couch, but what of our internal  experience? How much of that did we share? I’ve said that sometimes Luke  lost his temper with me—but how could I know that? Without language as a  bridge, how can any of us really know what goes on inside the heads of our  dogs?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    In one sense, we can’t. We can’t ever know what it is like to be a dog;  some argue we shouldn’t even try. But many of us try to understand the  mental lives of our dogs every day, and we’re not going to give up just  because the task is difficult. One of my earliest childhood memories is of  lying on the living room floor wondering what was going on in the mind of  my dog, Fudge. I wanted to know what she was thinking, what she was  feeling. Even at the age of five or six I wondered, What is life like  inside her soft, furry little head? Is she happy? Is she sad?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    These are reasonable questions for any dog lover to ask. Our emotional  connection to our dogs is the fundamental glue that binds us to them, and  it’s natural to want to know more about their emotional connections to us.  We can’t have long intellectual discussions with our dogs as we do with  our human friends; perhaps that’s part of the attraction. Our intelligence  and ability to use language can make our human relationships pretty  complicated, as any marriage and family therapist can tell you. Our  relationships with dogs are simpler in many ways than our relationships  with people, but simplicity doesn’t necessarily make something less  important. E = mc2 is simple, but it’s an equation of great value. Perhaps  our emotional connection to dogs is similar: pure, primal, and as basic as  oxygen and water.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    I don’t remember whether I ran forward or stood frozen in fear during that  endless second when Luke was in danger, but it was only a moment or two  before a woman behind me calmly said, “Down your dog.” I will forever be  grateful to her, because this was perfect advice. A working guard dog is  unlikely to be aggressive to a dog who lies down and stays still when  approached, rather than running at the sheep like a hungry wolf. “Lie  down!” I bellowed, and two hundred yards away, Luke hit the dirt like a  Marine on maneuvers.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    If Luke had been a much younger dog, he might have kept running. Asking a  dog to stop on his outrun goes against his nature, and although an  experienced trial-ready dog should be able to do it, it’s an advanced  skill that takes some serious teamwork to achieve.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Luke’s age and training might have saved his life, because he dropped to  the ground at my first request. Just in time: the guard dog got to him  within seconds. “Stay there,” I said in a low, steady voice, finally  coming to my senses enough to be able to function. Luke stayed motionless,  glued to the hillside, while the Pyrenees sniffed him from head to toe.  (Well, really it was from rear end to muzzle, but you know what I mean.)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Although I was still terrified about what might happen to Luke, my brain  was working again, and I was able to remember that my own guard dog  insisted on inspecting any visiting dog from tail to collar. Tulip has  been aggressive toward a visiting dog only once—when it ran away from her  instead of standing still for scrutiny. I’m reminded of airport security  guards, who are benevolent if we accept their inspections, but who react  instantly to anyone who resists. Tulip behaves in a similar way, and once  she’s cleared canine travelers of harboring some doggy equivalent of sharp  objects, she ignores them or invites them to play. That’s exactly what  happened that morning at the fun day. After a round of intense sniffing,  the dog trotted off to check in with his flock. Soon his owner came and  put him away, and Luke was able to complete his outrun and ease the sheep  down the hill to me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    We had a great time working the flock after the interlude with the guard  dog, and drove home tired from our day outside in the fresh air. Later I  told a client about what had happened, and she suggested that Luke had  probably been traumatized by it. “Look at poor old Brandy here [the dog  lying at her feet, in my office for a serious case of dog-dog aggression].  He’s never gotten over being attacked by that Black Lab at the dog park.  You can see it right now in his eyes.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    It was hard to see Brandy’s eyes, covered as they were by champagne-  colored bangs, but what I could see looked pretty much like the eyes of a  dog happily chewing on the bone I’d provided. I’m not saying Brandy  couldn’t have been traumatized at the dog park. (We’ll talk later about  how traumatic events can affect the behavior of a dog years after their  occurrence, just as they can in humans.) But if I had to make my own guess  about what internal state Brandy’s eyes were expressing in my office, it  would have been contentment, not trauma.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    WHAT ARE EMOTIONS, ANYWAY?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    It’s not surprising that people don’t always agree with others about what  emotion their dog is feeling. Emotions are complicated things, and it’s  worth taking a fresh look at them before we try to expand our  understanding of our dogs’ emotional lives.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Emotions may be primitive and primal, but that doesn’t mean they are easy  to understand. Now that we’re finally getting around to studying them,  emotions are turning out to be amazingly interesting and complicated  biological processes. Most scientists agree that mammals such as dogs are  capable of basic emotions like fear, anger, and happiness, but they don’t  agree on how they actually experience them. Surely, on the one hand it’s a  simple issue—if Luke saw an aggressive dog running toward him, why  wouldn’t he be fearful in much the same way that I was?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Ah, but on the other hand being scared is an emotional experience driven  by the brain, and the only simple thing about the brain is the fact that  we still haven’t begun to comprehend it. No wonder: there are about a  hundred billion neurons in the human brain, all linked together by ten  trillion connections. Because of this level of complexity, our  understanding of the biology of emotions is primitive at best. This makes  it especially challenging to compare emotions in people and dogs, but the  last few decades of research have taught us so much about the biology of  emotions that it’s more than reasonable to try. A good place to start is  an examination of what we know about our own emotions.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    Surely we all know what we’re talking about when we’re discussing  emotions, but what would you say if someone asked you to define them?  Beyond the labels we give them—fear, anger, joy—what exactly are emotions,  and how are they created inside you? If you struggle with a precise  definition, don’t feel bad: you’re not alone. According to Antonio  Damasio, an internationally acclaimed expert on emotion and the brain, our feelings are the least understood of all mental phenomena.  They are also the most ubiquitous and probably the most ancient, so it’s  surprising that we’ve only recently attempted to sort them out. It took  scientists like Damasio to dismiss the arguments of early behaviorists  that we shouldn’t attempt to understand emotions because, as subjective  internal processes, they were “beyond the bounds of science.” It turns out  that’s not even close to true; Damasio and others have proven that the  biology of emotion is as accessible as the biology of hearing, vision, or  memory.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    This doesn’t mean that research on emotions is easy. Emotions are slippery  things, in some ways as hard to separate from our bodies and minds as it  is to separate egg yolks from egg whites once you’ve mixed them together.  As the neurologist John Ratey says: “Emotion is messy, complicated,  primitive, and undefined because it’s all over the place.” You can’t sit  back and examine your own emotions as if in a petri   dish, because they come along with you. We do know that emotions—like joy,  fear, and anger affect the mind and body in predictable   ways. An emotion like fear includes physiological changes in your body  (your heart starts pounding when you see your dog running toward the  road), visible changes in expression (you freeze in place, your pupils  dilate, your eyes widen), conscious thoughts (“Oh no! There’s a car  coming!”), and feelings (your conscious experience of fear and panic).  Thus, every emotion includes (1) changes in the body; (2) changes in  expression; and (3) the feelings and thoughts that go along with them.[quote]--Temple Grandin, author of Animals in Translation Author of The Other End of the Leash","brand":"Ballantine Books","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46301175906533,"sku":"NP9780345477156","price":21.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780345477156.jpg?v=1767727549","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/for-the-love-of-a-dog-isbn-9780345477156","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}