Do Dogs Smile?

I enjoy a walk through the neighborhood with Mama. Sometimes, as I become winded, I open my mouth revealing my (well cared-for) teeth. When this happens Mama looks at me and says:

"Oh, you're smiling, you're so cute & darling, that makes me so happy, you make me smile too."

At home I contemplate the age-old dog question. Why must human beings anthropomorphize dogs?

We are not human beings and although domesticated, we share very little of their means of communication. For example, humans seem to use their voices excessively while dogs communicate through body language and subtle glances.

Do dogs smile? I suppose it's all in the eyes, and the intentions, & beliefs, of the beholders. Yes, I enjoy the walks with Mama, and on the weekends the special treat, walks with Mama et Papa. But my facial expression corresponds to my elevated heart-beat rate. As a point of information, dogs may work out, but we do not sweat.

I shall ever wonder at the apparent need for humans to believe that dogs share their own characteristic behaviors and emotions. And perhaps I pity them for their incessant desire to find among a higher species shared communication patterns.

Defense

A dog's life involves responsibilities and concomitant dangers. Here's an example.

First, to put it in its context, one of my responsibilities is to protect our house and property. Another is to watch over the neighborhood more generally.

Second, we live at a busy T-intersection. Many cars, school buses, small trucks and delivery vans speed by daily. Furthermore, the sidewalks provide tree-lined pathways for neighbors and students from the nearby high school. Walkers, joggers, bikers, parents pushing prams, etc.

I trust this sketch wil help you comprehend the example I shall now relate:

This morning, a gray and blustery morning, I was outdoors on the porch with Mama. A Large Dog, wearing a collar but no tags, broke into our space, approaching the screened porch and rampaging around our property. He said he wanted to play, but why should I believe him? I knew what I had to do--first the low growl, then the full-out bark.

"Arf, arf," I cried.

The Large Dog opened his mouth and showed off his tongue.

"Arf, arf," I shouted.

After several returns of this sort, the Large Dog ran away. And I chalked up another success in the dangerous but satisfying job with which I am trusted.