Homo sapiens
Scientists generally use Latin words to name living things in a classification scheme called taxonomy. It’s intended to show relationships between living things.
Humans are classified in the genus called “Homo,” the Latin word for man as in person, and as a species called “sapiens” meaning wise. All of the ancient members of our species have gone extinct so we named ourselves without knowing if our ancient cousins were actually very smart.
The choice of the word sapiens shows our anthropomorphic bias.
That’s right. Existence is all about us. We see human faces in the clouds and our beloved animals are small reflections of our own greatness. It’s called anthropomorphism.
Anthropomorphism
There’s nothing wrong with it being all about us. The problem comes when we think our furry buddies are just little humans who can’t read and write.
Dog (his name is Buddy) barks at us plaintively and we wish we could understand him. Or worse yet from an understanding perspective, we actually think we know exactly what he wants. He most certainly wants exactly what we think he wants. So we follow him to the kitchen where the barking increases in urgency.
We love hamburgers so that must be what Buddy wants. Should we warm up that leftover hamburger? Who wants cold food?
It’s only after Buddy turns his nose up at the all beef patty with extra cheese and onions do we notice his dry water bowl.
All that fuss over a little water!
Now give mama a big hug. But wait. Hugging is for primates. Dogs hate to be hugged. It’s like being restrained. Chained up.
Remember. Dogs are smart, not quite sapiens, but smart – or at least that’s an attribute we have assigned to them.
In fact, my dog is smarter than your dog. And I am certainly smarter than you.
Did I tell you my cat can read? And understands English too!
Symbiosis
Symbiosis comes from Greek meaning “living together.” There are many kinds of living together, such as parasitism and your own children living in the attic.
But the kind of living together we are thinking about is the one between us and our pets. Sometimes scientists call it mutualism or interspecies reciprocal altruism.
What do they get out of the relationship and what do we get?
What they get is simple. We don’t eat them.
Then to varying degrees the pet may be well fed and protected.
Unfortunately many are abused. At least in western countries dogs are not often eaten by humans. Other animals kept as pets such as rabbits and pigs are not as lucky.
What we get out of the relationship depends on what kind of persons we are. We can talk to our pets and imagine they understand. We can feed them, bathe them, groom them, pet them, and imagine they enjoy it all, assigning to them the human emotion of joy, which we hope they experience but in reality we have no idea. Anthropomorphism at work!
Unexpected benefits
We seldom think about it, but when we live with an animal we exchange the bacteria we carry on and in our bodies. This is generally regarded as beneficial to both us and the animal because it could result in a more robust immune for both us and our pets.
Research has shown that dog and cat owners have a lower risk for death from a heart attack or stroke. The reasons are certainly complex and vary from person to person.
Think about the mental health benefits of getting outside ourselves and caring for a creature that cannot care for itself in the complex world we have created.
Nevertheless in individual cases these presumed benefits may not be true. Having an animal under your feet may push you to your limit and you kick it. The bacteria, instead of helping both you and your pet make you sick.
Be cautious and practice good personal and pet hygiene.
Don’t forget physical exercise. Your pets need it too. Even the American Heart Association says so.
We love this quote from the online Merriam Webster dictionary:
“As word lovers, we are endlessly fascinated by the uniqueness and complexity of human language. Many species use sounds and gestures to communicate with one another, but the ability to speak in full sentences, to share abstract ideas, and to write and tell stories is distinctly anthropic. Brilliant though dogs may be, they can’t verbalize their hopes and dreams. That is, unless those dogs are anthropomorphic—a trait common in works of fiction. From chatty chiweenies to tangoing tapirs, depictions of anthropomorphic animals abound thanks to our creative superpowers.”
