“Think not, Revolted Spirit, thy shape the same as when thou stood’st in Heav’n upright and pure; that glory then when thou no more was good, departed from thee, and thou resembl’st now thy sin and place of doom obscure and foul . . .”

              According to Milton’s Paradise Lost, so said the angel Zaphon to Satan who was found in the Garden “squatting like a toad at Eve’s ear.” 

I did recently find myself quoting a portion of Zaphon’s thought to Scooter Sublime in a major scolding. 

“When thou did’st stand upright and pure, as a perfectly adorable pup,” I said. “You were a people-pleaser. You took to training like a baby to the breast or bottle.

“However,” I said sternly, “when thou no more was good, when that goldendoodle glory departed thee; thou resembl’st a teenage boy with a deep voice you love exercising quite inappropriately. You bark out of turn. “Thou resembl’st now a pain in the behind,” said I. 

“Not really,” Scooter replies, straining against the leash, loudly scolding an unfamiliar dog half a football field away, or bellowing at a bench placed along a path where once it wasn’t, or barking loudly from his side of the door at sounds of strangers moving along the corridor on the door’s other side. 

“As wonderful as I am,” says he, “and I am; I am constrained by being ‘Dog.’ While I absolutely abhor disapproval, you must realize I do not experience guilt. If I were to tear up a couch cushion (he hasn’t), and you didn’t scold, I would feel nothing short of satisfied. You might as well know, when you assign ‘guilt’ to an expression on my face, you are likely anthropomorphizing.” Scooter means for me to get a grip on reality. 

Scooter Sublime is no longer a pliant pup. Fully grown he is, and fully in possession of the brain offered dogs by design. Granted, dogs often do better than young children in problem-solving. They are wise about size and characteristics of things. A two-inch dog biscuit should remain two inches and a yellow ball should remain yellow. Dogs understand that. Unlike toddlers, dogs know a ball deliberately blocked from sight is still there. They will wait for it, as Scooter waits for the closet door to open, allowing him to prove that, though temporarily hidden, a stack of socks exists. 

Clearly, dogs exhibit emotion: joy, excitement, fear, and some say even anger. However, Scooter, and dog brain researchers, say that he does not experience, nor can he, either guilt or shame. Due to the tiny frontal lobes of a dog’s small brain, this, and not much more. 

As for behavior? On its own, Scooter’s brain offers little aptitude for forwarding any major behavioral change. Very little insightful judgment rises in a dog’s thought. Short of repetitive training, we should expect from Scooter what a dog brain is wont to do:    Act on impulse                                                                  Or, not do:  Think before acting/ Change inappropriate behaviors

“What’s that?! Woofff, Snarl! Woof!” says Scooter. That happens to be a large yellow debris tub placed on the sideway by gardeners. Scooter knows fear. He is a blustery coward. He backs away, he barks. He bluffs.

Left to his own dog directives, Scooter responds to the amygdala, that brain part that drives his immediate responses to things. While his tiny frontal lobe is to be commended for its work of establishing alertness and intelligence, and through the thalamus, relaying sensory information, the amygdala will not contribute logic or thoughtfulness. Scooter is boisterously happy, but behind his extrovertive energy, he is a fearful boy. He operates from impulse. “What’s that? I will make it go away! Growl, Bark! Bark!”

 It is the fearful but unnecessary “Bark! Fierce Growl! Bark!” we wish to have end. However, Scooter is not mentally constructed to make that happen by choice.  

This is an admission I meant never to articulate. Scooter’s inappropriate behavior is a human responsibility. Generally speaking, dogs do what nature and humans allow them to do. Scooter does.

To the angel, Zaphon, I say, I think your task may have been easier than mine. Scooter’s shape remains the same. In his estimation, “upright and pure.” No glory has departed this boy. Guilt is an unknown. But his people are learning. 

 We lean hard against his desire to stay happy, and in part, his happiness depends on the approval of his people; those two who do not approve of a particular bit of barking behavior that (we hope) can be changed by repetitive training. By differing degrees, the three of us are working on it. 

Stay tuned.