In Pursuit of Happiness

As I am writing this, my three dogs are stretched out all around me, enjoying the warm spring sun coming through the window. They already had their daily walk for about an hour, their bellies are full, and they have the company of each other, and me - in a secure, comfortable, and safe environment. What else could a dog want … or need. These must be the happiest dogs in the world.

Or are they really? Safe… yes; well taken care of…absolutely, content …probably.
Seeing them this way, and taking care of them gives me a sense of accomplishment and makes me happy… but are they as happy as they should be? I doubt it.

We all create our own concepts about what makes our pets happy; mostly thinking it is closely related to our presence. But what would happen if I would leave my front door open, during this cozy picture as described above? I’ll tell you what would happen. My dogs, who I believe are actually in a state of boredom and resignation, would follow their instinct in the pursuit of happiness. From the safe and secure confines of a comfortable environment, they will gladly make their way out into a world of unknowns, to explore and enjoy it on their own terms, without my – or anyone else’s – intervention. Having been with dogs in a variety of environments over the course of over 30 years, in my opinion “the happiness of dogs” is closely related to their freedom and the uninhibited interaction with their own kind. Freedom of movement. Freedom of making their own decisions. Freedom of choosing their own company. Not food…not shelter… or human companionship as we make ourselves believe.

I suggest this with confidence, because I lived it. Picture the following scenario:

You wake up in the morning on a tiny island in a temperate climate, you walk out the door of your tiny house, and there are half a dozen dogs dozing in the morning sun, in your “yard without borders”. Your patio door was open throughout the night but none of them chose to be inside with you, despite the fact that you have known each other for years. They all lift their head; wag their tail… you have been acknowledged. You sit on your patio, overlooking the Mediterranean Sea, enjoy the sun and the scent of wild flowers in the morning, and then decide to go for a walk before breakfast. One of the dogs decides to join you. Usually it is a different dog every time, sometimes more than one. There are no leashes, no rules or laws, no commands. In fact not a word is uttered. You meet other dogs on your walk, some come to explore, others keep their distance, and none cause a scene. You get back and prepare breakfast for yourself, and the dogs. Some take you up on it; others take a rain check. You are prepared to give them anything and everything loving, responsible owners are prepared to give their pets. The best food, medical and hygiene care you can afford; the safety and security of a shelter – your home; attention, interaction, stimulation – but only if they want it. So far there have been no takers. They find “happiness” in their freedom and in each other. You decide to walk into town – a distance of 15 minutes. Some of the dogs follow. You sit down with some friends at a café in the town square, some dogs linger around, and others disappear. There are other dogs and cats in town, walking around, going in and out of shops. All sizes… all breeds… from Scotties and Cocker Spaniels to Irish Setters and St. Bernards – and any combination thereof. Mostly dumped by big city folks, who did not want to care for them anymore… unbeknownst what great favor they did to these animals. Few people on the island pay them any attention. There are no jubilant greetings, but nor is there animosity. These animals have become part of the social fabric. Restaurants and individuals feed them. There are a few in need of care due to age, sickness or injury, but unless they let you, no one interferes. Everything is on their terms. These dogs don’t belong to anyone, and nothing but their independence belongs to them. As difficult as it is to believe, such places exist, mostly in milder climates of Third World countries. I am from one of them – as described above.

In a few years’ time I will go back to that environment. Although I had dogs and cats in my household throughout my life in Canada, the North American way of keeping and interacting with domestic animals did not appeal to me. The animals seem to have become prisoners and slaves of our laws and regulations, as well as our affection and urge to control. I find the notion that says “things which make us happy must also make them” absurd. I want to go back to a place and way of living that offers them choices… that gives them freedom. I don’t want to have to tell them what to do and what not. When I talk to them, I want them to find comfort in my voice, and not draw any conclusions from what I have to say. I want them to be indifferent, and not dependant on me. I want them to know that I am a haven - if and when they need me. I want to earn their trust and them to enjoy my company …not when I call them, but when they choose to join me. I don’t want to teach them, I want to learn from them.

Make no mistake…I will defend their rights of co-existence, and protect them from abuse and cruelty as vigorously as I am doing today… but I will not interfere in their way of life. As a concept, most animal lovers in this part of the world may find it difficult not to. Some may even find it cruel. But once we start meddling with the natural state of things, it will quickly escalate to the same conditions we have here right now. I have come to the conclusion that we as humans are incapable of finding or establishing a happy medium. We have attempted in other such places, and turned it into a mess. I am lucky to have found such a pristine place, where there are no laws, regulations, abusers, advocates, rescuers, pounds, dogcatchers or owners. Their freedom is limited only, by the shores of a tiny island in the middle of the Aegean Sea. Their welfare depends on their willingness to accept our help. There is a gentle relationship – even a symbiosis - between and among animals and people, here on this island. This is the true mutual paradise that will make the final part of my life a joy to live through, in the company of animals that are not – at best - content or resigned, but truly happy.