Showing posts with label interspecies relations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label interspecies relations. Show all posts

Sunday, June 26, 2016

For the Less Well-Adjusted Cats

I've helped quite a few consistently violent or anxious cats, and these two complaints are generally what non-cat-people, and frustrated cat people will cite as the reasons for their frustration.

Violent cats are on one hand easy to deal with because there is a single method that I've found works very well and doesn't need much adaptation.  Cats are violent for two reasons: first, because they feel they're playing.  Consider when a violent cat scratches, or grabs your arm to claw at it, what is your immediate reaction?  We're creatures of instinct, too, so naturally we pull away, try to get kitty off of us.  Think about the similarities between that action and the action of, say, a cat toy being tugged about in her claws.  To them, it's just another game, and being violent by nature with their non-lethal weapons, it's a fun one.  In order to curb this behaviour, you need to make it less fun.

The process is painful, but hear me out.  If kitty is clawing at you, regrab them — not hard, just essentially to fixate them on what they're doing, and also give them the very real sensation that you are definitely bigger than they are.  An interesting thing about the cat psyche is that they don't seem to register size when considering whom they can beat up.  That having been accomplished, you're going to let them continue clawing your arm.  This doesn't mean you shouldn't vocalize your discontent; enough "ow!" and "hey!", coupled with the grabbing, will have your cat stop.  She may look up to you, confused and embarrassed, or she may just get miffed that her tactics aren't working as they usually do, but at this point you'll be able to get her claws out of your skin and you'll keep her with you for a pet and cuddle, so long as she'll tolerate it.  This is simple operant conditioning, pairing the fun they usually have with something humiliating or uncomfortable, and then rewarding them for ceasing the humiliating and uncomfortable thing while simultaneously showing them another activity to enjoy with you.  The change will not happen overnight, and may take weeks, even months of this depending on the stubbornness of your cat, past trauma, intelligence, and your own skill, but I've seen it succeed many times.

The other reason cats are violent, though, is because they're afraid.  Generally, this takes a very different form, and rather than grabbing and clawing for long periods it's a quick grab and kick, usually with some angry vocalizations, or else just lashing out.  Acutely angry or afraid cats will often jump at faces.  While some cats that are playing may employ hit and run tactics, smacking or scratching you, and running away, only to come back and try the same thing again, angry or afraid cats will avoid you if they can.  If this is the reason for your cat's violence, you need to get them into a comfortable situation in which they won't have a choice but to be with you.

This is also the treatment for anxious cats that I've found works well: Live intensely with your cat for a period of time.  That is, keep her in your room with good food, water, litter pan, cushions, catnip, and anything else that might help them feel comfortable, except for hiding places.  The reasoning behind anxiety in both cats and humans is ultimately the same: we have a stimulus that gives us anxiety and our escape from that stimulus exacerbates it, because we are conditioning ourselves to fear it more.  Cats are very, very good at escape, so they are very good at being anxious.  In this treatment, you are preventing your cat from escaping you.  It may be extremely traumatic for them; depending on their level of anxiety, usually past abuse, she may hiss and spit every time you move, search desperately for an escape route, even urinate on the floor, but you need to be consistent and give your cat as much attention as you can while still attending your basic human needs likely for several days on end.  Over time, and the key term here is graduated exposure, try to pet and cuddle her; like with the violence-for-play method, when she lashes out at you, however much you may bleed, just let her until you can scritch her ears, hold her, or find some other way of making her feel physically good, which will calm her down.  Ideally, only let her go when she seems calm, and wants to get to a different spot for her own comfort rather than because she's afraid, although you may have to try a few times to get to this level.  If you are not able to, ensure your cat is not getting away from you because she escaped; rather, be sure it's on equal terms.  For instance, you may reach out to pet her and she may jump at your hand and slash it immediately, backing away and snarling.  You want to continue advancing in this case, and just get to the point where you can gently scritch her cheek, and then move away, having succeeded in your goal.  There's a lot of sacrifice to be made here in terms of your own physical pain and scarring, but you retreating from her self-defence is just another form of letting her escape and build her anxiety further.  Throughout the entire process you want to be very verbal with your cat, using a sweet, soft tone.  This ultimately may sound borderline psychologically abusive, and you definitely need to have the heart for it, but this exposure is crucial.  Ideally, you want to keep this up until kitty can lie contentedly on your bed as you get into it, and visibly appreciate petting without any violent preamble.

Cats are an enigmatic species; we've lived with them for thousands of years and we still don't quite understand them.  And they like it that way, being the shy kid in the back of the room that no one quite gets and fewer people still will even try.  But as people who love our cats it's our duty to understand them whether they help us along or not, to develop that relationship between cat and human, and make their lives as happy as they can be.  Best of luck.

Sunday, June 19, 2016

Cat Communication

In general, people don't bother with their cats too much.  It sounds very distasteful to say, but it's true: We think of our cats as rather asocial animals, who can generally take or leave us, and when they take us they may well just leave us three minutes later, until the next time we're busy enough that we're worth bothering.  Cats are assholes, we say.

I, obviously, feel very strongly against this.  Cats can be very sociable, loving, even needy as any dog you might find if they're given the attention and the respect, and their communicative needs are met.  Dogs, though they aren't anymore, originally came from pack animals, and are still naturally more gregarious than cats are.  We, as humans, can sympathize with this, and so we have an easier time communicating with them.  Cats, on the other hand, are nocturnal, less interested in consistent, close proximity, and prefer the one on one.  This doesn't mean they have fewer social needs, only that their social needs are different.  They're the introverts of the animal world, and a common misconception about introversion is that it means you simply don't like people.  Introverts don't like crowds, don't like strangers, but the few people that they do like they become very attached to, and require them in their lives more than extroverts might rely on their own friends.  Cats are like this.

So no, don't assume kitty is fine if you leave home for a week and they have no one to interact with.  You may come home and they seem to ignore you, but this is because cats have a more complex social mind in some ways in comparison to dogs: they have the capability to quietly resent, they are vengeful, they can be embarrassed.  Have you ever seen kitty do something stupid, like slip across a kitchen floor chasing a bug only to collide with a counter, and you laugh, and they stalk off to face away from you, licking themselves?  Their humiliation looks a lot like ours, and so do their feelings of being abandoned.  They haven't forgotten you when you get home after that long trip, they just aren't very happy that you left them alone in the first place.  Cats isolating themselves, whether in humiliation or sickness or other upset, is a survival mechanism.

Cats also listen very attentively to verbal communication.  Like the other forms of concealment or deceit listed above, they often know very well what we want them to do or are telling them, but ignore us intentionally.  If one develops a strong relationship with a cat, they may well tear this barrier down, as my own has, and react to your wants and needs almost implicitly.  In return, cats also have a huge range of their own verbal expressions, highlighting how important verbalization is to them.  The more you talk to your cat, the more they'll talk back!

Cats have somewhere between thirty and upwards of one hundred distinct vocalizations, depending on one's source.  This is actually far more than dogs have, which is somewhere in the teens.  For comparison, the greatest number of distinct sounds in a human language is 141 at most.  Coupled with body language, this means a cat can express an awful lot with little effort.
  • A content cat will have her ears forward, her eyes almond-shaped, and her whiskers down and forward in what I like to call a 'cat smile', since like a human smile it uses muscles in the cheeks.  The tail will be relatively still, perhaps just flicking at the tip, back and forth like a pendulum.  Content cats obviously will purr, but if you're talking to them and petting them, especially if they're pacing about while you do so so that you can get to their favourite places, they may give short little chirping noises or bubbling sounds from their throat.  A very good way to see a content cat though, apart from all this, is the slow-blink.  A lot of people see this as them being snobby, and in humans this is a rather self-important expression, but in cats they're telling you that they're happy where they are and they appreciate your presence.  Cats will also rub against things when they're happy, and contrary to popular belief, this isn't them declaring your desk or your leg as their property, it's just communication like everything else.
  • An excited cat will have a more rapidly flicking tail.  People usually note that an active tail in a cat generally means they're annoyed or angry, but an excited cat's tail may be all over the place as well.  She'll be moving around a lot more, and may even look agitated, but the facial expression will mirror their content state, especially in the ears and the whiskers.  She may vocalize much more, especially if you're vocalizing back to her, with loud purring and meowing.
  • An annoyed cat will be making very few vocalizations at all.  She'll have her back to you, perhaps her ears back so that she can hear what you're doing.  Her whiskers will be pushed back as well, and her tail will be flicking.  In this state, it's best to just leave them alone; as humans, our natural response is to try to cheer them up, but they just want time to themselves.
  • An angry cat is easy to spot.  Ears back, whiskers back, hackles raised.  They'll snarl and hiss, and generally be very unpleasant.
  • A frightened cat is also easy noticed.  The facial expression will be similar to an angry one in that the ears and whiskers will be back, but the tail will be still, and the eyes will be wide.  A cat under consistent stress may actually purr, just as they do when they're injured.  Some have asked me before how one can tell between a purring happy cat or a purring, and it's all in their facial expression and their reaction to stimuli.  We all know what a cat looks like when she's enjoying being pet, curling her body against your hand; a frightened cat won't appreciate attention as overtly, although unless she bristles or moves away from you, comforting her is very advisable.
In general, the way you interact with a cat will be very different from how you interact with a dog or a person.  People often lament that they dislike cats but cats in houses always seem to like them; this is because cats enjoy being ignored.  Most cats don't enjoy intense physical attention, but even the most casual pet or ear-scritch can make them very happy; if she decides she wants to go somewhere else, do something else, don't follow her.  She'll come back on her own.  The petting may get more intense, and some cats love being brushed roughly, or having themselves underneath your body, making them feel loved and protected, but one way to almost always engage with your cat is just through verbalization.  If you observe cats in the wild, big or small, most of their interactions are very brief physical contact, along with quite a few more vocalizations, often at long distances apart.  Tell your cat her name in the right tone and you're guaranteed a cat-smile and a slow-blink.

Sunday, June 12, 2016

Zoophilia and Veganism

It's been some time since I've really involved myself in any sort of zoophilic community, the only good one I've ever found still being at knotty.me, but one thing I recall people discussing in places is whether it's moral or not, especially as people who prefer the company of animals over people in matters that go beyond mere introversion, to eat meat and consume other animal products.

The argument has been made that we as zoos don't just love certain animals, but all animals, and we understand them better than the general population due to both our interest and our proximity to them that we try to maintain, both physically and emotionally.  It's been said that anyone who can do that and still feel that they are not morally in the wrong for consuming animals cannot be doing it right.

I would argue, however, that if we understand our animals the way we say we do, we also understand our own animal nature, which historically has included eating meat as a crucial part of our lifestyle and our development as a species.  It may be today that we can exist on certain proteins, synthesized supplements, all from non-animal products, but to me doing this denies some of my basic nature, the same as just giving my cat beef-flavoured supplements would deny hers.

Morality goes beyond floaty pieces of philosophy, though, and it would come down to whether or not I feel a sort of sympathy for the animals I consume.  And I do.  Ideally, we would live in a world in which animals and humans are free to live their own lives without interfering with one another without consent.  Wild horses would never have gone extinct everywhere outside Mongolia.  Bears would leave alone campers.  Birds wouldn't get sucked into jet intakes.  Unfortunately, that isn't a world we live in, and isn't a world we can live in; humans are taking over and I don't believe it will even be a possibility without a literal apocalypse for us to stop it.  So to me, there are two options: The first is that we press the philosophy that animals need to be protected, away from humans, and be allowed to live free lives without our meddling.  And this has merit, morally; freedom is good, but unfortunately it often is juxtaposed against safety.  If animals as a whole were allowed, and made, to live without human interference, that would also necessitate that they're living without our protection.  We already of course see this when we compare the lives of animals within human society versus without; despite our consumption of them, cows, pigs, chickens are not in danger of going extinct, because we measure our consumption.  Meanwhile, even though consumption of them has been made completely illegal, many endangered species are only dwindling in number, and continue to dwindle apart from within reservations specifically set aside for them.  Imagine, for a moment, if rather than insisting they are wild animals, we managed to domesticate the Amur tiger.  They're bred, selected for docile behaviour, and sold as pets.  Suddenly they're a business, and now the tiger is nowhere near the brink of extinction.

But we're talking about slaughtering animals here, not simply keeping them as pets.  Let's disregard for a moment the fact that most of the animals consumed in the United States are kept in pretty horrible conditions, and this, I agree needs to change.  And it can change, it has changed in other parts of the world, with greater regulation of animal welfare in farming and a decrease in the immense amount of waste that requires the United States to slaughter so many more animals than they should.  Let's pretend that we have done that, because it will happen, and that every hamburger is raised free-range, hormone free, and so on.  We're still slaughtering these animals, but in the wild, these animals are naturally prey animals as well.  Yes, they may perhaps live longer lives out there, but they more often will actually live shorter ones, riddled not only with the promise of eventually being eaten by a predator but also sickness, injury, accident.  It's arguable that the ideal possible artificial habitat for cattle is more humane than the wild that would be the only alternative.

To me, the PETA-style notion of animal liberation is silly.  If all animals were free of human influence, we would also be free of theirs, which would be an absolute tragedy, I say not just as a zoophile but as someone who benefits from the fact that dogs were domesticated for hunting, that cats were first used in agriculture, that horses were first bred and raised for not only riding but meat and milk.  Cows don't make the best pets in my opinion, having raised them before, but I'm happy nevertheless that they're in it with us, guaranteed survival (at least as their modern, selectively bred incarnation), rather than being bulldozed by the relentless tide of industrialism like the rest of the wilderness.  I'd like to see every animal included in human society, humanely, alongside us, and I think if we manage this, we ourselves will become more human in the process, more understanding rather than neglectful or fearful of our nonhuman fellows on this planet.

So as a member of a historically rather carnivorous species, I will continue to eat meat, but I will also be conscious of where that meat comes from, and how I, as a carnivore, might impact the humanity in the raising of that meat.  Am I getting chicken from a factory farm, or is it local, free range?  Just how far can the dairy cows who produce my milk move?  Do you know the answers to these questions?  Eat meat or do not, but if you do, be responsible about it.

Friday, July 5, 2013

Romance?

The other day, I was approached by a close friend about zoophilia.  She knows about my sexuality and had a simple question for me: Doesn't it get lonely?  This is a subject that comes up a lot both by zoos and allies.  A relationship in which you can't communicate using language, where you can't bring up complex topics or go to a fancy dinner or even say the words "I love you" seems to many, not unjustifiably, to be hardly worth calling a relationship at all.  And, looking back at this blog after a long hiatus and seeing it being almost purely read by people who I'd like to think are legitimately interested in pleasuring/relieving their female feline friends but are probably just looking for images and videos that they will not find on this blog or hopefully anywhere else ever, I think this topic is a good one to bring up.

My response to my friend might have seemed a little cynical.  I've been in love both with humans and with animals in my life, and while there are pros and cons to both, I don't believe one is superior to the other, and here's why: while a relationship between two humans does indeed have all of those riveting aspects about it, and I particularly myself enjoy sweet nothings and little romantic back-and-forths, it's precisely the same capabilities humans have that make relationships between them at the same time less communicative.

When using language to communicate, there are all sorts of things that can go wrong.  Grice's Maxims are, in essence, a list of things that cause communication to fail: lying, changing the subject, oversaturation of information, obscurity, etc.  These things, unfortunately, also exist within love, and if anything, exist more in romantic exchanges than elsewhere due to the strong culture of taboos, expectations, implications, etc. most of the world has when it comes to love.  We are actually required to deceive our romantic partners and potential romantic partners to avoid coming across as cold or oversexed, unsympathetic or clingy, to avoid commitment while still seeming committed, and so on and so forth.  Examples range from "playing hard to get" to consenting to sex despite not wanting it; we're all very familiar with the deception that goes on in romance to the extent that we all do it without even thinking about it: think of the meaning behind common little deceptions like "X really isn't a big deal" or "Yes, I really enjoyed Y".

Love with an animal, on the other hand, is very forthright: from the perspective of the non-human: if they don't want to be with their partner, they don't, and they do if they do.  If they want sex, they make that extremely clear; if they don't, they make that equally clear.  They make both their platonic adoration and physical pleasure well-known without restraint, and won't hesitate to make you aware of the opposite either.  They don't find mates to please their parents, to get revenge on an old lover, or because they feel sorry for someone.  So a human who falls in love with an animal is in a very real sense freed from those, in my opinion ridiculous, cultural constraints around romance.

So when I see a zoophile and his or her lover, my heart automatically melts.  I see a very happy and affectionate dog, cat, horse, and think, if I can say so without sounding sappy, that that's the purest love right there.  No holds barred, no secrets kept or lies told; whether there's a sexual relationship there or not, you know for certain there's love.  On the other hand, when I see a couple kissing on the street, holding hands, I can't help but look at their expressions.  Once in a while I get to talk to them.  Sometimes, certainly, I'm convinced that the two are very true to one another and to their relationship, and walk away feeling my heart warmed.  Much of the time, though, I can only think of a candle that someone's covered in diesel: it's going to blaze bright and hot, but it's going to burn out fast and, more importantly, it's going to smell awful: it's a couple that is fundamentally dishonest with one another and is formed by two people searching for love while missing the point of love in the first place.  It's a reason the divorce rate is so high in many countries, and I've never heard of a zoophile falling out of love or otherwise having emotional difficulties related to their partnerships.

This isn't to belittle anthrosexual romance at all.  After all, those who are lucky enough to find that individual with whom they can share a completely open and loving relationship have found someone they can understand implicitly.  As long as they're together, they'll never be lonely, while a zoophile, even one with a very adoring mutual relationship with their lover, will still of course want close human friendships to fill that gap (or, at least, they should).  But just as an anthrosexual can find that truly special someone, a zoophile can make those very close friends.  It's two different approaches towards the same goal.  The only difference is how they are viewed by greater society.

Friday, August 31, 2012

Cambridge: Animals as Conscious as Humans

I'm about a month late to the show; summer is the season of the slowest transmission of academic information for reasons that are probably obvious, but:

"...the weight of evidence indicates that humans are not unique in possessing the neurological substrates that generate consciousness. Nonhuman animals, including all mammals and birds, and many other creatures, including octopuses, also possess these neurological substrates."

Link.

What else is there really to say but, "It's about damn time"?  This is less of a scientific breakthrough and more of a political one: the stuff brought up in this conference has been basic knowledge for quite a long time.  That's a good thing: it means that it's actually going to get around to public knowledge rather than get holed up in some journal somewhere that no layman will ever hear of let alone read - especially since Stephen Hawking attended the signing, and it was also featured on 60 Minutes.

So, it's a little early now, but what can we expect to get from this?  First of all, probably a slower rate of advancement in neuroscience and medicine in general.  This sounds like a bad thing, and it may be, but it will be as a result of more stringent regulations on animal testing.

Then again, it may also more strongly suggest that animal testing is more valid, meaning you will get the same level of advancement for fewer tests.  Wherever you go there are always people saying that you can't go off of just a few animal trials because animals aren't the same as humans.  This is obviously still true, but when it comes to psych and some areas of neurosci that don't explicitly involve the neocortex, we may start being able to get more for less.

Most importantly, we'll get public acknowledgment of the worth of animals as individuals.  It's unfortunate how many people you can come across today who don't believe animals really have thoughts and feelings; these tend to be people who either were never close at all to their pets or didn't have pets at all, in my experience, which is a growing percentage of the population with continued urbanization.

As I noted before, this conference is geared primarily as a social and philosophical change rather than a scientific one, so this, I think, is where we'll start to see the most change.  It will come slowly, and perhaps I'm jumping the gun just a little here, but I would hazard that the global and inevitably successful anti-anthrocentrist movement has already begun.  As it progresses, we'll see not only changes in the way people see animals, but the way we see the natural world at large: suddenly our non-human neighbors become far more important, and conservation becomes an issue.  Environmental decline could slow as a result.  Social things too, of course: with the acknowledgment of animal consciousness, animal intelligence is only a couple steps away, and with that the rights of zoophiles.

All this from one conference?  No.  But it's a start.  I like to be optimistic, because in my experience if you publicly assume that something is going to happen, people around you believe so as well and change their behaviour accordingly, so as far as I'm concerned this is just a big step towards all of these big transformations of society and academia.  Spread the word; save the world.


I don't know when my next post will be, but the moral of the story is that if you have some news or something otherwise fascinating for me to write about, I will drop everything to do so.  Good work, "lovingpegasister".

Friday, June 15, 2012

Training, Not

Quite a while ago, I believe when I was ranting about the online zoo community, I mentioned training in zooerasty: specifically, that it shouldn't be done.  This is kind of a controversial thing, too.  Controversial, I mean, even for zoophilia itself.  So, once again, I apologize to my non-zoophilic readership, however few you may be at this point: judging by this blog's statistics, you're all a load of perverts anyway. ;)

So, training.  First, let's define it: training is using Pavlovian or operant conditioning to get an animal to have sex with you.  That is, rewarding the animal (ie with food) for participating, or punishing them in some way for not.  Let me make it clear that, say, showing your dog how it's done, or sort of "warming" your horse up over time is not training.  Animals do that to each other.  Humans do that to each other.  We don't really talk about it, because we don't want sex to seem so mechanical, and we certainly don't want to look like we're 'bad' at it, so we pretend it's an entirely natural thing which we just 'get'.

And we do, to a great extent.  So do most if not all sexual animals; certainly all the animals a human could ever have a mutual sexual relationship with, in any case.  That's part of the point here: animals do not need specific training to have sex, let alone to enjoy it.  If they are not enjoying it, it does not mean you need to train them to enjoy it, it means you are doing something very wrong.

I'll give an example: I read a lot of people talking about putting tasty things on their genitalia so that their animal (usually a dog) will lick them.  I don't have an enormous problem with this: particularly compared to other methods of training I read about, it's certainly not harmful.  The human is getting a lickjob and the pooch is getting a snack, and that's fine and dandy.  The problem comes up when people call this zoophilia. As I noted last month, zoophilia is romantic: there is primary interest in the desires of your partner, and in mutuality.  In the case of this training, the mutuality is limited: one is getting sexual pleasure, the other is not; the latter may only be faintly aware that sexual pleasure is at all being had.  The use of this method of training, therefore, along with all the others that are more explicit and intensive, are a form of bestiality.



Let's talk more about the peanut butter-licking.  The people advising other people on it are doing so as an answer to the question, "How do I get my dog to blow me/eat me out?" What is not acknowledged is that for dogs, even more so than it is for people, licking another's genitalia in a sexual context, usually before or after sex, is entirely natural.  It is a response to sexual stimulation, generally olfactory but also tactile.  This means that if the individuals in question were simply willing to put in the time to get to know their dog and establish an understanding sexual relationship with them, they would achieve the same result without any smeared substances.

From here, it doesn't take long to look at the other ways people get their unwilling animals to have sex with them.  Animals get sex.  They probably get it more than a lot of people do, and are more than happy to oblige someone whom they trust and makes them feel good.  Why, then, do we have people who will in the same breath talk about how they got their bitch to 'take it' and then call themselves zoophilic?  This is sheer bestiality, and is part of the reason zoosexuality is looked down upon so heavily: it's assumed, because these people are too stupid, heartless, or lazy to have a real mutual sexual relationship with an animal, that a real mutual sexual relationship with an animal is not possible.

So how do you do it, then?  By utilizing the empathetic skills you must have if you are zoophilic.  Know your partner.  Understand their body language.  When they say, "No," understand that it does in fact mean no, and oblige.  Experiment a little, but don't overdo it.  Most importantly, love them; if you do that, just like in anthrosexual relationships, everything else will come with time.

Also, in the last couple posts, this blog has doubled its view count.  This is in large part on account of Reddit (hello, Redditors!) but also because of a few links here and there that I know of on Facebook, MSN, forums and the like.  So a big thank-you to everyone who's helped spread this around!

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Animals Can Consent

Animals do not initiate sexual intercourse with people.

Actually, they do, quite a bit.  Whether it’s a cat in heat rubbing her butt in your face, or a male dog bouncing all around you with an erection, animals make the sexual desires well-known, and often those sexual desires involve people.  All it takes is a quick search on YouTube (here's my personal favourite) to see what this can look like.  It's a heck of a lot more overt than any self-respecting man or woman.

But why?  Evolution says they should only want to ‘do’ their own species, and interspecies sex is very rare in animals/humans.

Perhaps Darwin’s greatest failure was in assuming that people would be able to understand that evolution is not a cut and dry thing, is not a machine, and is actually incredibly complex.  For instance, sex performs many other functions other than just reproduction: bonobos, famously, use sex within their societies to lower stress levels.  Lions will mate with each other within their own sex and outside of heat to strengthen social relations.  And we, of course, rarely have sex with babies in mind.

Furthermore, interspecies sex is not rare in either humans or animals.  A fair chunk of the male population (between 10% and 30% depending on what study you’re looking at) have had some sort of intentional sexual relations with an animal at some point in their lives, and according to Zequi et al. (that study I tore into last year) the majority do so more than once.  This rate is even higher among animals.

In concluding the, “why?”: first of all, unlike humans, animals do not have culturally-embedded difficulties with interspecies relationships; secondly, they do not have the barrier of “us” and “them” as we do, which is primarily motivated by our reliance on language, and the notion that since we have it, we are very separate from and superior to other species.

Our pets, even pets that roam or have other members of their own species to interact with, often love us very much even in comparison to friends of similar species.  Our dogs may be OK when they are separated, but when we leave for an extended period, they become anxious and wait with bated breath for us to return.

You mentioned language.  A cat, dog, horse, etc. cannot say, “no,” or, “yes,” so they most certainly cannot consent!

When was the last time you had sex with your human partner?  Or, if you have not done so yet, perhaps you’ve seen it on a film.  Does either participant ask, “Would you like to have sex?” and does their partner say, “Why yes, that sounds lovely.”?  No: generally, no words are spoken whatsoever.  Words tend to “ruin the mood”.  So what do we tend to look for when wondering about consent?  We look for precisely the same things that zoophiles do: we place a hand somewhere, or do something else that is suggestive but not forceful, and our partner either responds positively and goes with it, maybe kissing us and returning a gesture, or they may move away, shift uncomfortably, vocalize (“Nuh-uh”) or even get violent; for example, the classic face-slap.  The last one, barring some interesting relationships, luckily doesn’t tend to happen unless you’re strangers, in which case, you deserve it.

An animal can’t sign an informed consent contract.

Laugh all you want, but you wouldn’t believe how often I get told this.  The problem is, I can’t find any contract to be signed by two people before they are allowed to have sex, so I’ll have to take your word for this one.  If someone could send me a copy of their own informed consent to sex contract, that would be great.  Thanks in advance.

More seriously: "informed consent" is used for legal contracts, and not for sex.  After all, idiots who have never taken a sex-ed course in their life are allowed to have sex, as are people who are intoxicated, and as I will discuss a little bit further on, we humans have a lot more to worry about than do animals when it comes to sex.

Animals are just like children: they can’t consent because they are too dumb to understand sex.

This is false on several levels.  The first level is the broad: there is no one kind of intelligence, and the idea that there is a single sort of intelligence is very old and outdated.  And before you mention it, no, IQ is only one measure of intelligence.  There are many kinds of intelligence, ie motor intelligence, working memory, spatial awareness, empathetic (your dog is many times better at reading your body language than you will ever be at reading his) and interpretation of and appropriate problem-solving regarding certain environmental cues, especially scent, that humans suck at in comparison to other species.  In fact, it seems that the only thing we have that no other animal has is linguistic ability, which has given rise to culture, complex social interactions, and the spread and preservation of information necessary for technological development.

Secondly, it is false that the law states that children cannot consent because they are intellectually incapable of understanding sex; the reason is that they are physically incapable of understanding sex.  Certain brain structures necessary for producing and regulating sexual behaviour, particularly the hypothalamus, are undeveloped.  Additionally, their hormonal cycles have not yet started; hormones responsible for sex drive and primary sex characteristics do not exist in high levels in their bodies just yet.  Neither of these are the case with animals, as is evidenced by the fact that, unlike children, they very regularly engage in consensual sexual behaviour with each other without any of the ill physical and psychological effects that very frequently occur when children are sexualized prior to puberty.

The retort to this argument tends to be that even post-pubescent children are not legally able to consent, and this is because of the aforementioned cultural and physical ramifications in human-human intercourse: we have STIs, we have social and cultural implications to sex, and as highly social animals in which sex is quite taboo, it can have some very real and tangible problems associated with it, which is the reasoning behind an explicit prohibition of sex between teachers and students.  Animals don’t have to worry about any of these things.  The exception, of course, is if the human, for instance, does not feed the animal if she refuses to have sex with him, but this is of course coercion, and is therefore abusive and does not fall within the realm of zoophilia.

Edit (Dec 2012): Due to this being a very prevalent argument against animals not having the ability to consent, I have further elaborated on it here.

Animals rape each other all the time.  They are used to it and have no idea of consent.

No, they don’t.  I talked about this in an earlier post, but I feel it necessary to reiterate it here.  In almost all animals, a female initiates sexual intercourse, and if a male comes onto a female that is not up for it, she will refuse him and may react with violence.  The reason for this is that most animals have good escape mechanisms, and they have good defence mechanisms: a cat can scratch, a dog can bite, and a horse can kick or run.

The exceptions to this are: firstly animals that have very large litters and an at least relatively high chance of pregnancy per copulation, such as some rodents, where the potential for a male to be mortally wounded for attempting intercourse or afterwards is still an OK tradeoff because he’ll spread his genes greatly even if he only sows his seed a small handful of times.

The second exception is, more simply, animals that do not have good defence mechanisms, and in which females are disadvantaged.  This is quite rare, and the only three real examples of animals in which rape is as common as it is in humans are some primates, like chimpanzees and orangutans, some birds, and in dolphins, which engage in gang rape.  For the sake of this article, I will focus on primates, because, well, we are primates.

This will get a little controversial, so if you are sensitive to this topic you may want to skip this paragraph.  The fact is that it seems female orangs seem to actually have adapted to being raped.  This actually seems to be the case with humans as well: most rapes are not reported, and the feeling that, because she didn’t resist, she is afraid that somewhere deep inside that means she was OK with it, is very commonly described to therapists by rape victims.  This may be a defence mechanism: evolutionarily speaking, the chance of a woman dying because she resisted a potential rapist is quite high, and so it would be prudent for them to be biologically predisposed towards not resisting, of course then leaving the poor girls unaware that their genes were at that point overriding the conscious fear and cognitive resistance they were feeling during the crime.  If this is true, then if anything, human females are more likely to appear to consent when in reality they do not, than are most animals that are more naturally capable of escape or self-defence.

Animals in heat are rabid sex fiends and don’t have any choice.

As any breeder will tell you, it is often very difficult if not impossible to get a female animal to mate with someone that she genuinely, for whatever reason, does not want to.  She may well mate with a preferred individual, or, in the absence of anyone she believes is suitable, may choose to not mate at all.  Additionally, although you would be hard-pressed to find an academic source for this for what should hopefully be an obvious reason, animals that are sexually abused will avoid their abuser in future periods of heat, even hiding and suppressing the behaviours characteristic of a heat.  She will be highly anxious and her physical health will take a heavy hit, as it would with any form of abuse.  This goes for both males and females.

On the other hand, of course, an animal that is in a beneficial and sympathetic sexual relationship, whether with another of the same species or with a different species, they will feel a greater attachment to that individual, have less anxiety, and their health will improve, not only due to the greater level of happiness but also due to the various physical benefits of sex, which you can look up with relative ease at your leisure.


This is all the arguments I can recall at the moment that I have been presented with.  If there are more, I will of course edit them in, and if you have more, please post them in the comments or email me with them.  Thanks!

Monday, March 12, 2012

Ancient Lifestyles and Animals

Let's talk a little more about history: this time, the more ancient sort, before we had the concept that one could 'own' an animal any more than one 'owns' a child.

We'll start with what we can see with our eyes: in every corner of the world, one can easily find ancient graves in which there are animals buried with humans.  Often times, they were killed or sacrificed so that they could follow their masters into the afterlife.  Incidentally, this is also not uncommon with spouses, particularly wives, although suicide was more common here.  In Ancient Egypt, of course, we have millions of mummified cats, ibises, dogs, birds, and whatever else you might think of either given as a sacrifice to a relevant deity (because if your deity is represented by an animal, it logically follows that you should kill it) or, again, buried along with a human to accompany them in the next world.  Even in less structured regions, though, from Europe to the Americas to Japan, people are buried with their cats and their dogs.

Animals also crept frequently into the beliefs and the resulting art of these people: whether we're looking at tipi paintings in Montana or carvings on Norwegian jewelry, more often than not an animal will feature, frequently as the central aspect.  Old gods are often associated with animals: Horus and the falcon, Inari and foxes, Athena and her owl, Tezcatlipoca and his jaguar counterpart, Thor and his goats.  People became associated with animals, too: although when many of us, especially in the west, think of spirit animals, we think of Native American cultures, identical concepts existed all across the world essentially until the introduction of monotheism: the old Norse concept of fylgja mirrors precisely the idea of a spirit animal, which follows a person throughout their lives, representing them as part of their soul, and protecting them while they dream, and families in Japan are still sometimes represented by a zoomorphic deity.

Why was this?  What was so important about animals that has been lost today?  What has attracted us to animals so much?  First of all, from the earliest times, we have relied on them.  Today, when we say someone relies on animals, we think of beasts of burden, or food sources; however, until we started living close together in more urban settings, we instead lived closely with our animals.  Central heating didn't exist, so in colder climates people would sleep alongside their dogs to keep them warm.  Pesticides weren't exactly widespread, and since humans had not yet dethroned rodents as the number one carrier of human disease, cats were very often seen as protecting agents, hunting down those things that would not only deprive them of food but may well be the death of them through contagion.

Secondly, the divide between the human and non-human environments was not so distinct as it is today.  People both feared and respected the dwellers of the wild, and that often came to admiration, as we see so often in the association between deities and animals that had not at that time been domesticated.  Even as tarantulas bit us, snakes terrified us, wolves hunted us and foxes broke into the hen-house, and we were literally pitted against them, we recognized their power and wished for it ourselves, to be associated with these animals as our gods were.  This changed eventually as our prime nemeses in life came not from the climate and other species but from our fellow human beings.

The question we're left with is what precisely this means for us.  As noted in a previous post, it means that we're no longer as in-tune with our animal friends; that we have relegated them to a lower point than we once did and assumed them to be inferior to us, often to the point of having no consciousness of their own.  It also means, though, that we have lost touch with some of our own nature: many mental disorders, including schizophrenia and certain personality disorders, have roughly equivalent prevalence rates across the globe, mood disorders and anxiety disorders are most common in urban areas, where there is very little contact between species and very high contact within ours.  There is also a great deal of research on the negative correlation between depression rates and whether or not someone has a pet. (Hint: dogs are the best, but cats are great too, especially if you're female.) Animals have also proved very valuable in people with disorders like autism, (from Animals In Translation) and have other health benefits.

I already talked a fair bit about this before, so I won't yammer on, but it's something to think about: should we be looking backwards in time for our social and moral salvation?  In regaining a more mutual relationship with animals and animal nature, will we have a better sense not only of the world around us, but of who we are, and become more stable as individuals and a society?  In some ways, is the old better than the new?  I've obviously already made up my mind, but I invite the reader to do some research on his own, looking past the image of a boy and his puppy and thinking about what exactly the partnership depicted in that image means for each of its constituents.

Monday, January 30, 2012

Cats & Dogs


One suggestion I got recently was to talk about the differences between cats and dogs as far as how they interact with each other, and how we as the humans in their lives interact with them.  Now, I think this individual wanted more me to discuss why cats rule and dogs drool, but I am going to take a different approach and examine the different ways in which each species is intelligent, and what those forms of intelligence mean to us.

I’ll start with dogs, then, because dogs are the species that we are most familiar with.  We, as humanity, have been befriending, working with, and selectively breeding dogs (from the grey wolf) for potentially as long as 30,000 years.  They are the first animal we domesticated, and the closest from day one.  Many scientists believe that humans actually nursed wolf cubs in the early years of domestication (from Grandin, T. 2005. Animals In Translation, an excellent book regarding comparative psychology and sociology).  It’s really little wonder, then, that today we feel much more at home with dog emotions, whether they have become more like us or we have become more like them.

The first and most obvious similarity is that we are both highly social animals, and rely very heavily on each other and social hierarchies.  Contrary to popular belief, dogs do not view their owners as “the alpha” – the pack mentality was bred out of them long ago, and we can see this today in the looseness and disorganization of feral dogs descended from domestic breeds.  They do, however, tend to put a great deal of stock in our happiness as individuals that they cherish, and retain a great deal of the social intelligence of their lupine ancestors.

Some of this intelligence is in their willingness to display how they are feeling in terms that we understand.  Dogs use facial expression well, including using their eyes.  Perhaps ironically, though, while they have little qualms about being embarrassed or making mistakes that impact them personally, they are more likely to inhibit themselves if they feel it necessary for the happiness or agreement of their enigmatic human companions.  I want to write a significantly creepier article on this later, but for now, this means simply that we as human beings must not fall into the hole created by the dog’s usual openness, and learn to read the more subdued cues they give, especially when they are uncomfortable.

I want to talk about cats more, because cats are far more mysterious – and they seem to like it this way, so I apologize to any cats whose veils I am preparing now to lift.  This desire to not show certain aspects of themselves, particularly anything that may make them appear weak, is pervasive across all breeds and species.  Perhaps the most famous and distressful example of this is that cats will seek complete solitude when they are dying.  Many cat owners, even those who have not lost a pet, are aware of this solace-seeking behaviour when kitty is ill; she will hide beneath or behind a piece of furniture and not come out for anything, even if she has had no prior experience with the veterinarian.  The etiology of this behaviour is pure instinct: a cat that is ill does not want to bare herself in the open as an easy target, and it is instinctive behaviour like this that often separates them from dogs.

Cats have been domesticated for a long time, but not nearly as long as dogs – only at most 9,500 years ago.  More importantly, we have never become partnered with cats – apart from, on occasion, using them as hunting partners, and even in combat, we have mostly just kept them around the grain bins and barns to keep away rodents.  We give them a place to stay and a nice source of bait for their food, and they keep that bait from being eaten by their food.  Only relatively recently, mostly since the late Bronze Age according to region, have we done much for keeping them as vanity pets and companions.  It’s therefore little wonder that they have much more for instinct, and we understand them far less than we do dogs.

However, one can learn cat.  While cats are still so well tied to their feral nature that they can even be expected to survive in the wild if abandoned, they do have some surprising social skills.  Although they are not nearly as tightly-knit as wolf packs, cats do form small social groups that are mainly for collective hunting and protection of queens and kittens.  Cats also have a huge range of communicative abilities, but there are two difficulties that we have in interpreting them.  Firstly, their base level is the way that dogs are when they are concerned with your reaction.  They keep their emotions tight to the belt in order to not appear weak, until they are needed.  In short, they are the opposite of dogs in their expressiveness.  Secondly, their ways of expressing themselves are much more foreign to humans: rather than using the direction of their gaze or ecstatic activity that are very easy for us to interpret, they use their ears, whiskers, tails, eyelids, and very minute tactile methods of communication that we simply are not very well-acquainted with.  Someday, perhaps, I will talk about these as well in more detail, but the simple fact is that unlike both dogs and humans, they put a great deal more stock in hearing, smell, and tactile information (ie whiskers) than they do sight, which leads to differing forms of communication.

Due to both the historical nature of our relationship, then, and our varying methods of communication that neither side has a great deal of ease in understanding, we tend to assume that cats are less amiable or even less intelligent than are dogs, which is not true and is merely a gross oversimplification of the differences in their respective psychologies.  The last number of posts I have made, I have left the reader with an overarching message to chew on until next week, and I believe this is a fine time for that: each animal genus and even species has its own idiosyncrasies, intelligences, and methods of communication, and all are deserving of respect and striving towards understanding, even (especially) if we need to leave behind our human mindset.