Why I won’t say “He bites”
During yesterday’s chat, the following dialogue took place:
lovemydog:
I have an elderly dog who has always been leery of strangers. Is there a kind way I can convey to people we see during our nightly walks that I’d prefer they not pet him when/if they ask? He’s cute but cantankerous and has had some health problems recently. I don’t want to sound rude in any way.MissConduct:
Position yourself somewhat between the dog and the person and say, with a regretful smile, “I’m sorry, but he’s old and a little cranky and unpredictable, so I try to keep him away from strangers.” People will understand. I have to do that with Milo, too, sometimes.McDinkus:
I’d just say, “Careful, he bites”.MissConduct:
No, then people can get all flippy on you about having a dog who bites. Besides, as a dog owner, you feel bad when you libel your dog like that.
I realized today why the “Careful, he bites,” recommendation bothered me. It’s because I don’t like to encourage people to think of dogs — either individual dogs or breeds — as categorically “dangerous” or “safe.” For the same reason, a few weeks ago, I criticized parents who forbid their children to be around pit bulls:
The pit bull ban is remarkably stupid and short-sighted, and not likely to protect the kid at all even if pit bulls were more dangerous than other dogs. Children should be taught the signs of danger, not the corollaries of danger. Tell your kid that she can’t be around pit bulls and she’s going to take away not only the message that pit bulls are a menace, but that other breeds aren’t. The fact is, all dogs can bite, and all dog bites can do damage. If you want your child to be safe around dogs, you teach them proper dog etiquette and how to recognize a dog’s aggressive intentions. Crude profiling techniques don’t keep individuals safer; paying attention to what individuals (dogs and humans) are doing, and developing a good sense of intuition, do.
No, I’m not cavalier about the prospect of children being savaged by pit bulls, as the Misreading Brigade among my commenters seemed to think. But there will always be some breed that tops the “most bites” list, and thinking that dog safety begins and ends with avoiding that breed is like thinking that auto safety means never riding in whatever make of car has been in the most accidents. Saying “he bites” about Milo is as accurate as saying “it crashes” about my car. I’m not really concerned about libeling my little guy*, but I don’t like sending the message that as long as you avoid the bad dogs, you’ll be safe. All dogs are potentially dangerous, and all dogs — like all people — have moods, and circumstances, in which they don’t act like themselves.
*The dog’s self-esteem is not a problem. As a friend of mine said today, “Milo never doubts that he’s the lead in the movie.”
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7 Responses to “Why I won’t say “He bites””
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my sweet dog of childhood bit my sister when she was 2 or 3….but in all fairness she was trying to take the milkbone OUT OF HIS MOUTH. and he did give a warning bark.
granted he only bit til he felt resistance and then let go
Milo bit me once when I was trying to remove a tick from his belly. Because it was actually his nipple.
“Saying “he bites” about Milo is as accurate as saying “it crashes” about my car.”
Awesome.
And so applicable to so many non-dog situations.
I remember that column, and didn’t get around to commenting.
I remember wishing the parents would say this to the neighbors with the dog: “When you’re teaching your puppy about how to be safe around children, let me know–I’d like to bring Kelli over, because I want her to learn how to be safe around dogs.”
Big presupposition there, and on purpose–but why wouldn’t they be planning to train the dog? It’ll help to be intentional about it, and to expose the pet to a variety of examples, because they’re not great at generalizing. Doesn’t necessarily need an expert trainer, but certainly a responsible adult.
I’m going to repost my comment from yesterday: in a perfect world, all dogs would be trained to not approach people without first getting permission, and all people would be trained to ask for permission before approaching a dog. But we don’t live in a perfect world: dogs aren’t perfectly trained, people aren’t perfectly trained, and both people and dogs even if they’re trained sometimes forget their training. If you’re approaching a strange dog, it’s always a good idea to ask the owner’s permission before attempting to pet the dog. If you’re a dog owner, it’s always a good idea to be prepared for people to approach your dog without getting permission. Sometimes we (the dog owners) forget these things; we hope that the non-dog-owners out there will forgive us our lapses.
Robin, I think that you are absolutely right about not libeling your dog, and esp about not encouraging people to categorize individual dogs as “dangerous” or “safe”. People who don’t understand dogs are quick to judge them instead of accepting responsibility for, e.g., approaching a strange dog without permission. I once had a dog who was clearly disturbed by kids (never even came close to biting one, though — whew!). I used to tell the children to please not approach her because she was sometimes afraid of kids she didn’t know. That seemed to work. (And, actually, what I said was probably the exact truth.) With our current kid-easy dogs, I still thank the kids for asking us before they approach, and tell them how smart it was of them to ask first. That is what kids should learn, not “dangerous” breed avoidance. I agree that banning any breed is not only stupid but an ineffective policy.
Oddly enough, Milo didn’t bite me (or even give a warning growl) when I tried to remove that very same tick from his belly. Perhaps by the time I took the tweezers to his nipple, he figured that since you’d done it to him, it must be okay that I did it, too.
Signed,
Embarrassed, thankful for his tolerance, and ever so grateful I gave up the effort before drawing blood.