Humans are probably unique among animals in their ability to daydream and fantasize, and we do it constantly. While reading this book, you may have remembered what you had for breakfast, or reminded yourself to buy lightbulbs next time you’re out. If you haven’t recently, then you probably just did, or you are right now—and if you’re not careful, you’re going to have to reread the rest of this paragraph because you became lost in your own thoughts. I’ll wait for you to go back and catch up.
I’m not sure whether there is any evolutionary advantage to the human tendency to live in the past, present, and future simultaneously, but I’m pretty sure we do it because of our highly developed language skills. We may relive our best moments, or dream about an ideal vacation, or rehearse the speech we’re going to give to our boss in hopes of a raise.
This is not to suggest that animals do not have a connection to the past or future. A dog that once ate onions and became very sick may forever after flee at the mere smell of an onion. A squirrel hoarding nuts in its nest is aware that they are to be eaten at a later time, but he is not consciously thinking, “This will be dinner next Tuesday evening.”
In both cases, past and future are minor influences on what’s happening right now. After the bad experience of an onion, the dog does not go through the mental steps of “I smell onion. Oh, I remember the time I ate that onion and felt really bad. I better run away now.” The thought process is instinctual and instant. The experience of the onion left enough of an impression that the stimulus induces flight with no logical process behind it. Similarly, the dog does not spend her time thinking, “I really hope I don’t come across any onions today.” The dog doesn’t have any thoughts of an onion until it again becomes a present reality in the here and now.
As humans, we forget that dogs live in the moment, and this can be an impediment to rehabilitation and training. Dogs that have lost a limb, hearing, or sight do not lament the abilities that are gone. They deal with the abilities they still have, and they don’t waste time feeling sorry for themselves. With our human obsession with the past, we are the ones who relive a dog’s former traumas and then overload them with sympathy and affection that, in the dog’s mind, is unearned.
Dogs do not hold grudges or brood about the past. Even in the case of two dogs that do not get along and fight when in sight of each other, some remembered incident of the past does not set off another fight. Rather, the sight of the other dog triggers the instinctual recall, but even then, the dogs may not fight until one of them interprets the other as doing something that is aggressive. Once a fight is over, they have no hard feelings, and neither plans how to kill the other in his sleep. Contrast that to human grudges, where an insult (real or imagined) can lead to years of enmity and bad feelings.
This natural living in the moment is what makes it possible to rehabilitate dogs. Because they do not cling to the past or worry about the future, they are open-minded and constantly learning in the present. They do not resent being corrected or disciplined because, once it’s over, it’s over. They associate it with the moment it happened, and then they let go.
This is one of the most powerful lessons we can learn from dogs. Being obsessed with the past or future can lead to many negative emotions: resentment, regret, anxiety, fear, or envy. Letting go of what is over and done, and of what we cannot control, is the path to our own fulfillment in the here and now. It is also one more way of being that will help you to have a balanced relationship with your dog.
