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Pet loyalty theory goes to the dogs

You might not like to hear this, but your dog, should you have one, is quite possibly a disloyal, selfish bitch.

There's quite a lot of recent research to back up this proposition, and one resonant conclusion to be drawn from it all. The next time your dog does something that disappoints you, it's your fault for expecting him or her to live up to unrealistic expectations. It's not the dog's problem; it's yours.

A recent study by scientists at the University of Portsmouth set out to test the idea, beloved by movie-makers since Lassie was a pup, that dogs just love to help their owners hunt for lost precious possessions.

The study placed dogs, one at a time, in a room that also contained a chew toy, a stapler, and a notebook belonging to his or her owner. The owner then asked for help to find the "lost" book. Most of the time the dog headed for the toy. Several also thought the stapler was a fun thing.

"The dogs mainly directed their behaviour towards the object they had an interest in," reported lead researcher Dr Patrizia Piotti, writing in the journal PLOS.

Perhaps it's not so surprising that mutts are more often interested in a squeaky rubber chicken than a spiral-bound sheaf of paper. The animal's loyalty, however, its touching devotion to its owner, is surely the rock upon which the precious dog-human bond is founded.

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Sadly, not so much, it appears. A 2015 study at the Department of Ethology of the Eotvos Lorand University in Hungary tested dogs' reactions to various neutral, happy or angry commands issued by owners, other people known to the animal, and complete strangers.

Three findings emerged, which ended up denting the age-worn idea of the loyal one-owner mutt. First, most dogs aren't disposed to listen to strangers, and, second, when scared or anxious most dogs really do prefer to stay close to their owners. So far, so good. In other situations, however, such as invitations to eat, go for a walk, or play ball, the animals were perfectly happy to tag along with people they had simply met before. This suggests that Tin Tin's Snowy, should push come to shove, would be perfectly happy to leave his master's side and nick off on an adventure with Captain Haddock, General Alcazar, and even Herge himself.

More troubling, perhaps, was the observation that emerged from another study this year at the same Hungarian uni and led by Dr Linda Gerencser.

The research looked at how lots of pet dogs responded to "sit" and "down" commands in various set-ups.Offered food rewards either by owners or a machine, most of the animals behaved best when the automatic dispenser was in control of the biscuit supply.

This rather suggests that many misbehaving dogs could be persuaded to abandon their anti-social activities by the simple expedient of replacing their owners with a vending machine.

None of these findings came as a great surprise to La Trobe University researcher Diana Rayment, who is completing a doctorate in dog behaviour studies.

Rayment and colleagues recently published an examination of three standard questionnaires used to test owners' perceptions of their dogs.

Her team concluded that none of the tests were very reliable. In part this was because people who were enjoying their first pet dog tended to interpret behaviours differently to people who had owned several dogs in the past.

In part, too, professional dog folk – breeders, trainers, vets, and so forth – described dog antics in very different terms to the words used by standard dog owners.

"Also, we got a few weird patterns emerging," she said. "By and large, the dogs that did a lot of training also tended to be the dogs that had a huge amount of behaviour problems." On the surface, the result seems counter-intuitive.

Obedience lessons, surely, should produce well-adjusted animals. Rayment, however, can see a certain logic to it. "Speaking as someone who's worked as a dog trainer," she said, "you don't tend to get the phone call until there's a problem."

Pets that don't live up to the tropes of the loyal hound can be a source of bitter disappointment to their owners. The problem often arises when owners, perhaps unconsciously, expect a mythic noble creature and discover instead that they've got, well, a dog.

"The dog that the average joe with an urban lifestyle needs is probably a small, woolly coated animal that just goes with the flow," said Rayment. "But when you suggest that to people they say, yeah, well, I really want a labrador."

The common insight that arises from all these recent studies is that there exists a sometimes vast gulf between what owners think dogs are like, and what dogs are actually like.

Into that space, often, fall dashed expectations of intelligence, love, and fidelity. One of Rayment's La Trobe colleagues, psychologist Dr Pauleen Bennett, last year published a possible explanation for this disconnect. She called it the "canine cuteness effect".

She led a team that asked dog owners to evaluate how cute and how clever they thought their dogs were. Strangers were then asked to evaluate the same dogs. Not surprisingly, the strangers tended to be less impressed by the mutts than the owners (proving yet again that only a mother could love a chihuahua).

More interesting, though, was the finding that "cute dogs are perceived to have more desirable personality traits", and that "having a strong relationship with a dog may also inflate its perceived cuteness".

In other words, when it comes to dogs what you imagine you have is not necessarily what you've got.

Former dog trainer Rayment was reminded of this somewhat forcefully a few weeks ago. She is the proud owner of a rottweiler: loyal, obedient, intelligent, gentle, the lot. "He really loves kangaroos," she said. "He's really, really well trained, but when kangaroos are involved his brain just ends up in his big toe. He got me caught up in his lead, went after a bunch of kangaroos, and pulled me over so I broke both bones in my leg."

Being a canine professional, however, Rayment did not have the burden of a broken leg added to by the bruising realisation her pet was not a disciple of Scooby Doo. "I was a little surprised, but not hugely surprised," she said. "I always thought he would break my arm."