Do Dogs Feel Love?

We all grew up believing that dogs love their human companions.

I mean, has anyone here ever thought otherwise?

Many years ago when Jennifer and I were first dating, her mother came to visit and spent a short time in my Corvallis, Oregon apartment. It was Lois who had first posed this question.

It left me speculating on the answer.

I don’t know if Lois was making a belief statement in this regard or just challenging us young people (at the time) for the purpose of pushing our thought processes. Whatever the case, this is what my future mother-in-law had to say:

Dogs don’t really feel love. Their emotions are based on impulsivity, not love. Dogs simply react to what motivates them in the moment. When they’re sleepy, they prioritize sleep. When they’re hungry, they prioritize food…

Well, I’m paraphrasing my recollection of her reasoning, but you get the picture. To certain extent, I could see her argument. Most animals out of nature respond to the stimuli that are immediately in front of them.

Dogs are no exception…

EXCEPT…

…for something else.

After all these years, my defined answer to this important question came just over the weekend.

When Jennifer left on her east coast Puppy Express trip, little Alice (Dublin/Yeti) was just three weeks old.

A three-week-old puppy befits Lois’s argument to a tee. Puppy is hungry, all she does is look to me or Yeti to give her the food she covets. She will search with her senses. She will yelp her need ensuring that everyone will know she wants her food now and you better get it to me pronto!!

But then Alice turned four weeks and something changed.

Alice still voices her needs, sometimes verbally. Learning from Jennifer, I won’t reward her when she gets loud. And ALL puppies can get loud when they want something.

So, I awaited opportunity for her to quiet down before gathering her up and placing her on the sofa next to me. She had her breakfast which I prepared and now, it was playtime.

With a few toys, I engaged her in a friendly gave of tug-o-war. She wrestled the rag toy in her mouth shaking her head side-to-side until I let go and the toy was all hers. Then she would climb on me, demanding I wrestle the toy with her again…

Second verse, same as the first!

We went through a couple of rounds of this, back and forth. On occasion, I would win.

All of a sudden, Alice stopped.

And something did indeed change.

Dropping the game of tug, she looked up at me and there was a sense of wonder in her eyes. This apparent moment of recognition of me and my role was suddenly inscribed all over her face.

Without any coaxing from me, Alice moved closer to my face and gave me a kiss.

Just a little one.

But understand, there was no apparent need for something. There was no stimulus. It was just this sudden desire on her part to show me I was important to her.

This was not impulsivity, but an act from something far deeper.

In that moment, I too regarded Alice with wonder. “That was an act of love,” I said without thinking. She did not do that a few days ago when only meeting her needs mattered.

But again, this was different.

That act caused me to reminisce back to so many dogs I had known intimately throughout the years.

Rose, my first dog, was a giant schnauzer. She was my pride and joy in my college years. Rose knew after my father had just passed away that I was in deep mourning. She often laid her head on my lap and looked at me with a sense of empathy.

I know you’re hurting and I am here.

Then there was my search and rescue dog Cricket.

When I was teaching in Cortez, Colorado, Cricket stayed with me in a small trailer I had bought for the occasion because the job was several hours from home.

Every evening, Cricket and I played. She loved to fetch. She could catch a ball in the pitch darkness, she was so amazing and skilled.

Each night we curled up into bed, Cricket would lay down at my feet and just gaze at me. That’s all she would do. Just gaze with this elated expression.

Just as we recognize human expressions denoting certain emotions, we know when people are in awe of us. We know when a loved one is enamored just by their gaze.

This is how Cricket was. She loved me with a depth, I think, that surpasses most relationships I have ever known. That unconditional love. That appreciation for all that I give her enveloped into that one expression.

And you all recall the story I told many months ago of Jessie who, after I had injured my leg going down a step, leaned up against me as a way of comforting me. Such an act was not stimulated by Jessie satisfying a natural, impulsive need.

She was simply there for me.

And finally, there is Yeti. That dog would crawl inside of me if given the ability! There are moments when that dog feels so much affection towards me she can hardly contain herself.

While lying in bed, Yeti will lay her head on my chest. She’ll put a paw on my shoulder. She’ll shower me with kisses until I tell her to stop.

And Yeti has that same Cricket gaze. It is a gaze not enslaved through impulsivity or fulfilling an immediate need. The gaze does not accomplish anything in particular.

Alice gave me that gaze.

Little four-week-old Alice.

It was in that moment that I recalled that challenging topic presented those many years ago. And I never quite answered it nor fully understood that answer until Alice reminded me of what I already knew…

…and what all of you already know.

If you’re life feels empty and you need that love to fill that emptiness, do let us know. We have a number of dogs and puppies for sale:

Go to: https://direwolfdogs.com/dogs-for-sale/

Jennifer Stoeckl is the co-founder of the Dire Wolf Project, founder of the DireWolf Guardians American Dirus Dog Training Program, and owner/operator of DireWolf Dogs of Vallecito. She lives in the beautiful inland northwest among the Ponderosa pine forests with her pack of American Dirus dogs.