What Not to Wear!

Boo! Are you dressing up for Halloween? Ever wonder how your dog feels when you dress them up? If you want to know you should read Inside a Dog: What Dogs See, Smell, and Know? by Alexandra Horowitz. Although I can't say I feel the author gets it exactly right. When my dad dresses me up (which, btw, is pretty rare) I feel a bit like a floozie. Which, I have to admit, I kinda like. I mean what self-respecting dog doesn't like to get busy and then get treats? I haven't really read Ms. Horowitz' book, but we do have a copy on our bookshelf.

ON DRESSING UP YOUR PETS
Posted by Alexandra Horowitz

It’s the final week of our Critterati contest (winners will be announced on Wednesday). The New Yorker Magazine's Book Bench asked one of our judges, Alexandra Horowitz, the author of Inside of a Dog: What Dogs See, Smell, and Know, how your pet might feel about being dressed up.

The philosopher Thomas Nagel famously asked, in his titular essay, “What is it like to be a bat?”: what, in essence, is the subjective experience of a non-human animal?

Around this time of year, one might revise Nagel’s query to “What is it like to be a bat—dressed in a Superman costume?” Or, more accurately for of many contemporary American pets, “What might a dog (or cat or hamster or parrot) think of being costumed and festooned, or forced to don a hat and fake mustache in our celebration of Halloween?”

Inasmuch as I can speak to the experience of any animal (including members of my own species), my answer is “The dog, he does not like it”.

This is not to say that it is entirely torturous for your pet. The dog is of the species Canis familiaris: the latter part of that name indicates their familiarity with, well, their extended family, humans. Thoroughly domesticated, having put up with human behavior and its attendant silliness for something on the order of fourteen thousand years, the dog may suffer some costuming gladly. And this is why: by submitting to be a jack-o-lantern, hot dog (with bun), biker dude, or princess, the dog gains something valuable. He gets your attention, and probably an extra round of liver treats. Aside from the liver, there is little as nourishing to a dog as the attention of his owner. So we have bred dogs, and so they cooperatively are—sometimes to a fault.

On the other hand, to put raiments on a dog is to blithely ignore his essential dogness. Consider the Canis part of his heritage. Both wolves and dogs are descended from some wolflike ancestor; thus, we might look at the behavior of the dog’s cousin, the present-day wolf (Canis lupus), in order to provide one explanation for dog behavior. Among wolves, one animal may “stand over” another: literally placing his body on top of and touching the other, as a scolding or a mild putting-in-one’s-place. To a dog, a costume, fitting tight around the dog’s midriff and back, might well reproduce that ancestral feeling. So the principal experience of wearing a costume would not be the experience of festivity; rather, the costume produces the discomfiting feeling that someone higher ranking is nearby. This interpretation is borne out by many dogs’ behavior when getting dressed in a costume: they may freeze in place as if they are being “dominated”—and soon try to dislodge the garments by shaking, pawing, or rolling in something so foul that it necessitates immediate disrobing.

Another approach to answering the question of what Halloween might be like for the costumed dog is to engage in a little exercise of perspective-shifting. Imagine that you arrive at work one day and are told that today is the day you will be walking around in your skivvies (the human equivalent of putting a naked dog in clothing, perhaps). Socially, this is awkward; physically, it might be decidedly uncomfortable. But your colleagues grin at you, point and giggle happily, and ply you with extra liver treats—er, I mean, candy. In the end, you might put up with it for the day, secure in the approval of those around you, and the happy circumstance that you can wear your full office regalia tomorrow. So might it be like for your dog.

We are, ultimately, a culture of celebrants, and our dogs will be included in that celebration, regardless. But if you are willing to be that over-exposed owner aside your over-dressed and be-costumed dog for Halloween, I feel certain your dog would appreciate the gesture.