How Losing a Dog Makes You More Human

David Ian Howe
4 min readOct 8, 2020

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If you’ve ever lost a dog …I’m so sorry.

There’s no other way to put it, losing a dog is terrible.

…It sucks, especially when they are part of the family.

……When my family dog died last year, admittedly, I sobbed.

Yet strangely, as archaeologists, my colleagues and I are able to find a special kind of beauty in death; one that only exists between humans and our friend, Canis lupus familiaris.

If you’ve recently lost a dog, it may help you to understand that people have been losing dogs for upwards of 20,000 years.

Dogs were the first domesticated animal. Far before we had horses, even before we cultivated crops. It’s what makes our friendship so strong.

Dogs helped up hunt, they helped us gather, they helped us haul, and most importantly, they helped us become human.

…But how?

Strider the Science Dog

It’s difficult to say when dogs officially became “domesticated.” In reality, evolution doesn’t operate like it does in Pokémon; a fossilized wolf skull doesn’t become a dog skull overnight — this takes time.

When archaeologists find such remains at sites, we have to make educated and comparative guesses. Yet when we find canid remains placed in burials, not only does this suggest the animal was domesticated, but it also tells anthropologists that people were becoming culturally attached to their dogs.

If you can bear it, let’s look at this educational coyote specimen I buried to create a mock dog burial. First, you’ll see that Strider (my dog) is sad. Fortunately, this is not due to the deceased status of the coyote, but rather that he is not allowed to chew on its bones.

Mock dog burial with educational coyote specimen

Anyway…you’ll notice the “dog” is placed in a flexed or fetal position. There is red ocher around its body, as was often done for unknown ceremonial reasons. And there are also projectile points placed in front its body. These were often placed facing west, likely towards the setting sun, possibly for protection in the afterlife or as tokens of the dog’s hunting prowess.

We may never know what these ancient artifacts were meant for, but we do know that we also bury our dogs with similar trinkets and cultural artifacts.

We’re not so different after all this time.

Regardless, when cultural human burials show up in the archaeological record, it shows a milestone in our evolution that we had the forethought and cultural complexity to place one of our own into the ground for whatever reason; the next life, reincarnation, or just to keep the hyenas away.

As an anthropologist, the fact that we do this for our dogs as well is incredibly beautiful to me. So beautiful in fact, that when I introduce new audiences to anthropology, I begin with this image, titled The First Dog Burial.

The First Dog Burial by Ettore Mazza and Ethnocynology

I ask the audience to take a moment and think about the emotions the image invokes. When I ask them what they felt, the responses often include “sadness,” “death,” “mourning,” “funeral,” “family,” and “sacrifice.” These are all excellent answers. I use the fact that they offered such obviously human emotions to explain to them that people in prehistory were intelligent, had sophisticated cultures, and were neither spartan brutes nor “cavemen.”

I tell them that I commissioned an artist, Ettore Mazza, to illustrate what an ancient dog funeral might look like. I ask them to look closely and notice that these Eastern European Upper-Paleolithic people are fully clothed, not shirtless. That there are men, women, and children. That there is a shaman adorning the dog with symbolic ochre, and that the people have adorned themselves with tattoos and jewelry. I explain to them that all of these material details in the image are supported by the archaeological and ethnographic record.

I ask them to look for the postulated emotion Mazza painted on their faces; the sadness they felt burying the dog. I ask them to look at the female consoling the child holding their leg while carrying an infant on her back. I point out the person behind them who cannot bear to look at the scene. Finally, I ask them to take note of the other clan members in the background respectably observing from afar as this family lays their loved one to rest. Then I tell them “This is how people used to live. They weren’t less than human — they were us.”

…If you’ve recently lost your dog, I’m so sorry.

……I hope your dog lived a wonderful and fulfilled life.

………I hope you take the time to process your pain and sadness.

……I hope you feel a little closer to your distant past.

…I hope you feel more human.

Shallow dog burials, red ochre, fine-tailored clothing, jewelry, and presumed body modifications inferred from carved figurines are all present in Upper- Paleolithic Europe (Krutak and Deter-Wolf 2017:245–247; Morey 2006:168; Velliky et al. 2019; Janssens et al. 2018; Gilligan 2010).

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