One evening…

I sat at home improvising at the piano. My poodle puppy Keba suddenly perked her ears and woofed. She stuck out her tongue and sat up as if she really liked what she was hearing. A minute later, she lay down and went back to sleep. Those next ideas were too boring.

A few months later, Keba decided to sleep at the front door. Any time the neighbors had guests, she howled and barked to let us know there were strangers among us.

She started to recognize the words “beef,” “cheese” and “chicken” when my family discussed dinner, waiting inside the kitchen for a treat.

When I felt sad, she would lick me or put a paw on my hand and stay there.

I wanted to know what drove such behavior. Why did she care about me?

A working relationship

Humans and dogs have helped each other for a long time. One only needs to look back at history. The fossil record preserves traces of early human civilization.

On the icy Siberian island of Zhokhov, scientists found the first archaeological evidence for work-dog breeding 15,000 years ago. There, dogs went polar bear hunting and pulled sleds through thick snowdrifts. Larger and smaller dogs were selected to perform different tasks.

They demonstrated a remarkable ability to cooperate with their owners and other dogs. The pack must have shared a strong relationship. Dogs’ cooperative nature is one of the features that distinguishes them as friends.

Modern work dogs perform functions like livestock protection, scent detection, search and rescue and assisting police forces or militaries. In Alaska, huskies still pull sleds in the Arctic Circle in the annual Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race. All of these jobs require years of training and careful attention to temperament when breeding the dogs.

Take the herding breeds as an example. Generations of selective breeding resulted in the Border Collie, Old English Sheepdog and Australian Cattle Dog having the urge to herd rather than harm livestock.

Dogs present a remarkable ability to communicate non-verbally. Unlike wolves, the muscles above their eyes allow them to raise their eyebrows. As their eyebrow muscles changed, so did facial muscles, allowing dogs to smile.

Scientists have shown dogs recognize up to 400 words. Dogs can actually discern subtle differences in peoples’ speech. These differences include telling complete words from the syllables that compose them (e.g., a deconstructed phrase) and identifying commonly versus rarely used words. Even primates are not as attuned to their close relatives.

Dogs try to communicate in ways we understand. We imparted this urge through domestication. In what scientists from Duke University call “social cognition,” dogs have evolved the ability to process humans’ communication without formal training. Wolves, on the other hand, require extensive training to accomplish the same level of understanding, if they do so at all. This does not mean wolves are less intelligent, but it does suggest that dogs are more in tune with what people want. This came from thousands of years of exposure to human behavior.

From utilitarian animals to friends

Companion dogs have been around almost as long as working dogs. It is theorized that small dogs arose by random chance as humans domesticated the Middle Eastern Wolf 12,000 years ago.

The first lap dogs were bred in Ancient China in 3000 B.C. They were early versions of the Pekingese, kept in the Imperial Court. The Chinese royalty carried them in the sleeves of their long robes, much like some owners take their small dogs out in carriers.

Chinese folklore says the Pekingese was born from a love affair between a lion and a butterfly. The lion was too big for the butterfly, so he wished to be smaller. The Buddha transformed the lion and butterfly into compatible shapes. The Pekingese had a lion’s heart and a butterfly’s delicacy.

Dogs were main characters in myths and legends for many ancient cultures. In the earliest urban civilization, Sumer, they were linked with goddesses and the supernatural. Gula, the Sumerian goddess of life-giving and healing, frequently sat with a dog in artistic depictions. Anthropologists believe that dogs were not a common symbol in Middle Eastern art at the time, yet Gula was represented by canines in figurines at temples, cylinder seals, tablets and stone sculptures, indicating their inclusion was purposeful. Dogs were seen as divine because of the goddess.

Tomb Relief, Ancient Egypt, 2435–2152 BCE.

Ancient Egyptian artifacts reveal representations of canines in paintings, relief carvings and small figurines. One limestone relief from an Old Kingdom tomb (2435–2152 BCE) depicted a servant walking his Basenji while carrying a pole during a funeral ceremony. The relief included three hieroglyphs that spelled the dog’s name, “Ebony,” showing that the Egyptians named their pets and incorporated them into the fullness of life.

European merchants traded dogs for thousands of years. In the middle ages, diverse classes of people owned them. Small dogs caught rats. Sporting dogs such as greyhounds were status symbols, kept by noblemen for hunting — their main leisure activity when not at war. Well-off farmers might train a herding dog to protect their cows and sheep. Paintings from the 15th century show that owners took care to groom their dogs with flat combs like we do today.

French painting of a hunter combing his hound dog (1430–1440).

Perhaps the main change in how dogs were viewed in the transition from the middle ages to the early modern period was a newfound purpose of companionship. Small dogs who could not perform labor but were affectionate gained traction amongst the European nobility.

Ladies had small dogs for leisure. Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales mentions a prioress who fed her little dogs “roasted flesh, or milk and fine white bread” and “wept if one of them were dead.” Upper-class women like the prioress kept pet dogs as animal friends.

Evidence of the small dog’s popularity appears in art. At the beginning of the Renaissance, young ladies were painted inside their houses, which often featured a small and scruffy dog. The Arnolfini Portrait by Belgian artist Jan van Eyck, one of the most famous portraits of the time, shows a husband and wife standing in their home. At the bottom of the canvas, blending in with the brown wood floor, is a Brussels Griffon, a breed that still exists today.

Arnolfini Portrait, Jan Van Eyck (1434).

From friendship to emotional support

Therapy was one of the oldest jobs for dogs. Like the Sumerians, the ancient Greeks and Romans associated dogs with healing. They believed that dogs’ licks had the ability to heal. In Epidaurus, the Greeks built the Sanctuary of Asklepios so people could receive medicinal treatments, including getting licked by a sacred dog. Roman archaeological sites at Gloucestershire revealed similar reverence for dogs. Archaeologists uncovered nine toy-sized sculptures, made of copper alloy, and coated with precious metals.

In 9th-century Belgium, dogs on farms provided rehabilitation to the disabled as they worked together. Throughout the Enlightenment, dogs were placed in asylums to help people with their mental health. Florence Nightingale wrote in 1860: “A small pet is often an excellent companion for the sick, for long chronic cases especially.” Doctors in the 19th century began to realize that dogs could lift peoples’ spirits in a measurable way.

Today, service dogs go through training from puppyhood to provide essential help to people in need. They respond to commands, give physical assistance, and alert their owner of drops in heart rate and blood pressure. They can predict seizures and other critical conditions. Some service dogs perform deep pressure therapy for people who have post-traumatic stress disorder or panic attacks.

Back to business

My dog Keba curls up in the corner of the room and sometimes lets me comb her hair. When she gives me an “I want food” look, I realize it’s not just luck that makes me give in to her request. Thousands of years of conditioning have brought us together to this time and place where communication flows both ways we can understand.

My dog runs over to comfort me. She always welcomes my hug. I think back to the Ancient Greeks and Romans who believed that dogs not only helped people feel better but could actually cure their illnesses.

I could be an Egyptian stepping next to the Nile or a Renaissance woman walking cobblestone streets. A hunter or a hunter-gatherer. I might wear a tunic or a gown made of wool. No matter who I imagine I am, I hope Keba will never get tired of seeing me. The most rewarding part of having my dog is knowing we are best friends.

The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Fair Observer’s editorial policy.