Talking to the animals

We just got back from a week-long trip to visit friends in Seattle, which meant boarding our two dogs with a local kennel.  We know and trust them -- we've used them for years -- and they love our dogs, quirks and all.  So we can leave them and be sure that they're in good hands.

Guinness, for the most part, has no problem with kenneling.  He knows he's going to get treats and play time, so for him it's kind of like sleep-away summer camp.  He jumps right into the car like it's going to be a great big adventure.

Cleo, on the other hand.

Our little Shiba Inu rescue was caged during much of her four years with an abusive breeder, and she has an absolute terror of being locked up.  She's relaxed considerably since we got her in December of 2021 -- especially once we installed a dog door so she can go in and out of our big fenced back yard whenever she wants -- but she still freaks out when the door closes behind her.  And she gets very, very wary when she knows we're going to pick her up and put her in the car (for example, on trips to the vet).  She's really snuggly and friendly if it's on her terms -- but if she knows she's going to be restrained, good freakin' luck.

Cleo in a calm moment

So we've tried everything we can think of to (1) lower the stress surrounding the situation, and (2) make it easier to get her when we absolutely have to.  Bribing her with food barely works; she's the least food-motivated dog I've ever met.  Calm talk has zero effect.  And my wife pointed out to me that my tightly-wound personality comes through in my voice, that if I say in as friendly and non-threatening a manner as I can, "Hey, Cleo, c'm'ere!  Want some cheese?" she not only isn't gonna respond to the bribe, she knows that I'm up to something.

I've tried whatever I can, but I don't seem to be able to help having it show when I'm anxious about something, like when we have to drop the dogs off at the kennel by 9 AM, and it's 8:45, and we're chasing Cleo all around the back yard.  At first, I was a little reluctant to believe that Cleo is really that sensitive to subtleties in my tone of voice, but after a few frustrating hour-long battles to come closer to her than ten feet, I have to admit Carol's got a point.

And some research out of the University of Copenhagen that appeared last week in the journal BMC - Biology bears out her contention that domestic animals are way better at picking up on vocal tone than anyone thought.  It's an odd claim, when you think about it; why should domesticated animals -- even ones like dogs, who have been in association with humans for tens of thousands of years -- recognize human social signals?  Even between closely-related primate species, the same signal can mean entirely different things.  For example, smiling is a sign of friendliness amongst humans, but smiling to a chimp is basically baring the teeth, and is considered an indicator of aggression or fear.

But the research seems unequivocal.  And they weren't even working with dogs; they primarily worked with pigs and horses.  They even controlled for the possibility that animals might learn certain words and have associations (positive or negative) that come along with them, something that is certainly true of most dogs.  (Say "do you want to play fetch?" to Guinness and he immediately turns into the canine ping-pong ball.)  What the researchers did was to hire a trained actor and gave him various gibberish phrases, with the instruction to speak them in a variety of differing tones.  They then recorded the animals' reactions on a lot of benchmarks -- ear position, facial tension, pupil dilation, and so on.

The animals had no problem picking up on the actor's emotional tone.  "Our results show that these animals are affected by the emotions we charge our voices with when we speak to or are around them," said Elodie Briefer, who co-authored the study.  "They react more strongly -- generally faster -- when they are met with a negatively charged voice, compared to having a positively charged voice played to them first.  In certain situations, they even seem to mirror the emotion to which they are exposed."

So Carol, apparently, is spot-on about Cleo picking up the tension in my voice.  The open question is what I can do about it.  Even when I'm aware of it and trying to moderate it, it apparently comes through loud and clear.  At least this is the last time for a while that we're going to kennel them, she doesn't have any upcoming vet appointments, and maybe just time and trust-building will convince her that whatever happens, she's safe.

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Myths, mammals, and extinctions

It's interesting how the scientific version of urban legends can be incorporated into people's knowledge of how things work, and become so entwined that most folks don't even know which bits are true and which aren't.

Stephen Jay Gould riffed on this theme in his essay "The Case of the Creeping Fox Terrier Clone," which appeared first in Natural History and was later published in his essay collection Bully for Brontosaurus.  He looks at the claim that an early horse species, Hyracotherium, was "the size of a fox terrier" -- something that Gould found quoted in dozens of books on prehistoric animals (and which has therefore been used as a gauge of the animal's size in countless classrooms).  It turns out that it originated with a paleontologist, O. C. Marsh, who said Hyracotherium was the "size of a fox" -- a significant underestimate, as both foxes and fox terriers top out at around twenty pounds, and Hyracotherium weighed in at something closer to sixty.  But the analogy stuck, and people continued to pass it along without checking its veracity -- giving us the impression of tiny dog-sized horses, lo unto this very day.

Another example of this, from the same field, is that mammals were small, few in number, and low in biodiversity until along came a meteorite that for some reason selectively killed all the dinosaurs, leaving the mammals to throw a great big party and evolve like mad into the species we have around today.  This is incorrect on a variety of levels:

1. The K-T (Cretaceous/Tertiary) Extinction of 66 million years ago seems to have been caused by a double whammy -- the aforementioned meteorite, which left the Chicxulub Crater in what is now the Gulf of Mexico, and the formation of the Deccan Traps, a lava field from a colossal supervolcano eruption, all the way around the Earth in what is now India.
2. Dinosaur biodiversity had been decreasing for some time before the K-T Extinction, and in fact by some estimates was already down 40% from its peak during the mid-Cretaceous.
3. ...however...  All the dinosaurs didn't go extinct 66 million years ago, and I'm not talking about Nessie, Ogopogo, and Mokélé-Mbembe.  We still have dinosaurs around, we just call 'em birds.  The evidence is now incontrovertible.  Think about that next time you're putting out sunflower seeds for the chickadees.
4. The extinction hit pretty much every taxon that existed at the time.  The hardest-hit were large carnivores -- a vulnerable spot in the food chain at the best of times -- but no one escaped unscathed.  In fact, one group that got wiped out completely were the ammonites, a cephalopod mollusk that had thrived for 350 million years before getting clobbered during the K-T Extinction.
5. Most pertinent to this post, the mammals weren't just skulking around waiting for their opportunity; they'd been thriving alongside dinosaurs since the Triassic Period, 154 million years earlier.  This was the topic of a paper released a couple of months ago in Biology Letters by Tiago Bosisio Quental of the University of São Paulo and Mathias Pires of the University of Campinas.

What Quental and Pires did is a thorough survey of mammalian fossils, analyzing biodiversity as a function of time in three of the four big lineages of mammals -- Eutherians (most of the mammals you're familiar with), Metatherians (marsupials), and Multituberculates (an odd group of rodent-like mammals that were only distantly related to the rest of Class Mammalia, and which were one of the most common groups of mammals for almost two hundred million years).  They didn't include the fourth lineage -- the Monotremes, or egg-laying mammals -- only because they are extremely rare in the fossil record.

A late Cretaceous multituberculate, Catopsbaatar [Image licensed under the Creative Commons, Artwork by Bogusław Waksmundzki. Article by Zofia Kielan-Jaworowska and Jørn H. Hurum, Catopsbaatar, CC BY 2.0]

What they found -- predictably -- is that the dynamics of the extinction, and the years following it, is far more complex than it's usually represented.  "All these mass extinction episodes are heterogeneous," study co-author Pires said.  "They occurred for different reasons and unfolded in different ways.  Their impact on life forms was not absolute but relative.  Some groups suffered more, others less.  Some disappeared, while others took advantage of the new environmental conditions after the catastrophe to diversify rapidly."

Even within groups, the extinction didn't have uniform effects.  "Extinctions were concentrated among the specialized carnivorous metatherians and insectivorous eutherians," Pires said, "whereas more generalized eutherians and multituberculates survived and maintained higher diversity."

He added, "This means that studies of macroevolutionary phenomena focusing on broad taxonomic groups may miss a much richer macroevolutionary history, which can be perceived only at finer taxonomic scales."

Which can more generally be summed up as "the simple explanation is usually wrong."  It'd be nice if things weren't so complex, especially for we non-scientists.  But like Gould's fox-terrier-horse, many of these oversimplifications are flat-out incorrect -- and the truth is so much more interesting.

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This week's Skeptophilia book recommendation is one of personal significance to me -- Michael Pollan's latest book, How to Change Your Mind.  Pollan's phenomenal writing in tours de force like The Omnivore's Dilemma and The Botany of Desire shines through here, where he takes on a controversial topic -- the use of psychedelic drugs to treat depression and anxiety.

Hallucinogens like DMT, LSD, ketamine, and psilocybin have long been classified as schedule-1 drugs -- chemicals which are off limits even for research except by a rigorous and time-consuming approval process that seldom results in a thumbs-up.  As a result, most researchers in mood disorders haven't even considered them, looking instead at more conventional antidepressants and anxiolytics.  It's only recently that there's been renewed interest, when it was found that one administration of drugs like ketamine, under controlled conditions, was enough to alleviate intractable depression, not just for hours or days but for months.

Pollan looks at the subject from all angles -- the history of psychedelics and why they've been taboo for so long, the psychopharmacology of the substances themselves, and the people whose lives have been changed by them.  It's a fascinating read -- and I hope it generates a sea change in our attitudes toward chemicals that could help literally millions of people deal with disorders that can rob their lives of pleasure, satisfaction, and motivation.

[If you purchase the book from Amazon using the image/link below, part of the proceeds goes to supporting Skeptophilia!]

The horse worshipers

I am endlessly fascinated with animal behavior.  Besides having been a pet owner for more or less my entire life, I have been a fanatical birdwatcher for years.  Beyond this, though, I just think the interactions of the non-human species with which we share the planet are interesting from the standpoint of evolutionary biology and neuroscience -- two areas of biological science that are intrinsically awesome.

It may be because of this that I tend to react with revulsion toward an all-too-common human tendency, which is to treat non-human animals as if they were something other than they are.

This can take many forms, and they are not all equally bad.  Our anthropomorphizing of pets is usually fairly harmless, and I've fallen into that trap, myself; what dog owner out there has looked into those loyal, liquid eyes and not thought, at least for a moment, that Rover is far more intelligent than he really is?  It's understandable, particularly since dogs are highly social animals who have been selectively bred for millennia to be responsive to humans.  It'd be surprising if we didn't by this time have dogs who were capable of eliciting this reaction in us.

It can lead to problems, however, when this natural and rather innocent tendency leads us to treat animals in (*ironic word choice alert*) inhumane ways.  I've seen more than one obese, unhealthy dog whose owner insisted on feeding it, both in quantity and quality, as if it were human.  But there's even worse than that; in our determination to make non-human animals into something other than they are, we ignore the (interesting) reality and create a (dangerous) fiction surrounding them.

We, in effect, create a modern-day mythology, analogous to our distant ancestors' imbuing of animals with magical powers.

It's not just domestic animals that we do this to.  The people in Tuesday's post who thought they were magically in touch with whales are examples of this phenomenon.  (One reader posted a comment wondering why woo-woos think that only the charismatic megafauna have mystical powers -- why they try to connect to the Wolf Spirit and the Whale Consciousness, but no one tries to create a telepathic link to, say, a chicken.  It's a good question, although I must say that it would be entertaining to watch someone try.)

I was sent a particularly egregious example of this whole phenomenon yesterday by a frequent reader and contributor to Skeptophilia.  Entitled "Equinisity Retreats: A Transformational Journey," this website describes a ranch in British Columbia where horses are... more than just horses:

Our Sacred Land is home to a herd of free roaming horses, llamas and our resident Buddha, Tesoro the bull. The 320 acres of enchanted forests, hills, lakes, rivers of underground crystals and magnificent views, is an energetic matrix for personal transformation through higher consciousness, universal love and connection to all life...  Equinisity Retreats are transformational journeys hosted by Liz Mitten Ryan, Author, Artist and Animal Communicator and her herd of equine higher beings.

Now, I will be up front with you; although I've been around animals my whole life, I am not a horse person.  I have ridden a horse exactly once, a patient, gentle old guy named Tonto on whom I sat for an hour's beach ride in Montauk fourteen years ago.  That's it: my one and only contact with horses.  I have, however, a friend who is a passionate equestrian, with whom I have had many conversations on the topic.  She understands that horses are, first and foremost, herd animals, who have evolved for millions of years to interact with each other and with members of other species in the ways evolution molded them.  In their original habitat, they are highly social animals, but are also prey; any interaction with them has to be predicated on that understanding.  And like any social animal, they have unique gestures, signals, and modes of non-verbal communication that you must understand in order to interact with a horse without its either running away from you or kicking you into the middle of next week.

But her understanding of horses is based on science, not on wishful thinking about their being "spiritual masters."  She studies, appreciates, and loves horses; she doesn't worship them.  On the other hand, listen to the way Liz Mitten Ryan talks about the interactions with her "equine higher beings":

These spiritual retreats offer re-connection, re-vitalisation and healing, dispelling illusion, shifting consciousness and tuning and raising personal and universal vibration...  Untainted by human mass mind consciousness, this perspective provides a life-changing understanding of the enlightened journey. You are invited to rest, reconnect, and heal with the Land and the Herd. Tune and raise your vibration through the powerful crystals of Gateway and healing sessions with the Herd; learn to see vortices, feel and see auras, and connect and communicate with all life.  Learn animal and communication with all life through journaling, dowsing, opening to channel and trusting and refining your innate abilities.

Now, I'm not claiming that what she's doing is in any way detrimental to the animals.  From what I could tell from the website, the horses are probably well cared for.  But her selling point -- that somehow, she is allowing you to learn animal communication through some kind of mystical contact with equine "higher beings" -- is absurd.  Be that as it may, if you wanted to, you can even go there to get certified to lead "horse healing sessions" yourself:

Horses are coming forward as teachers and healers in programs everywhere. Here at Gateway 2 Ranch we have pioneered the Equinisity Programs and have interest from people all over the world who would like to incorporate these at liberty horse healing programs that are producing miraculous results. 

The most miraculous result for the owners of Equinisity is that there are people who are willing to shell out $6,800 to take the training.

On some level, I get why people do this sort of thing.  Horses are beautiful, majestic animals.  But they are animals, not "spiritual beings," and are far less intelligent than humans.  Worshiping them as if they are "higher beings" that are "enlightened" and can allow you to see vortices and auras is, simply, false, and taking people's money on this pretext is unethical at best.

Once again, the reality is far more interesting (not to mention far cheaper).  Most places in the United States, Canada, and Western Europe are within a reasonable drive of a place where you can learn to ride and to interact with horses, if that's what you want to do.  And learning about how the behavior of horses (and every other animal in the world) has been driven by evolutionary pressures will help you to see why horses do what they do, in their interactions both with humans and with their herdmates.  In the long haul, you will learn more than you would by going to British Columbia to have a "spiritually transformative experience" involving a made-up view of animal nature.

As usual: learn some science.  Learn some facts.  Allow yourself to be awestruck at how cool the biological world actually is, even if it forces you to abandon your mythology.