Recent years have seen a surge of findings that suggest we aren鈥檛 the only animals to mourn the death of loved ones. Scientists have documented cases like that of the orca Tahlequah, seen carrying her dead calf for 17 days and over 1600 kilometres, or young gorilla Segasira, who attempted to suckle from his mother鈥檚 corpse despite already having been weaned, in a futile attempt to ease his distress at her lack of response.
Although these heartbreaking stories feel relatable, we should be wary of assuming that all non-human mourning must make sense from our perspective.
Advertisement
Consider the following. If you live with a dog and you were to die suddenly with no one else around, your pet would probably eat you. I have shared this with many an audience and always get the same mix of shock and nervous giggling in response. There is something deeply unsettling about the idea that our dogs may take the first opportunity they get to dig into us. And yet, despite appearances, this may show us that they care deeply about us.
, like wolves, are scavengers in addition to hunters. When a wild dog feeds on a carcass, they usually start to eat from the torso, which is where the nutrient-rich organs are. Only 10 per cent of these cases involve bites to the corpse鈥檚 face. In contrast, when dogs feed on a deceased human caregiver, almost three-quarters of cases involve bites on the face, while in only 15 per cent of them are there wounds to the abdomen.
The face is the part of our bodies our canine friends the most attention to because it is key to understanding our emotions and communicating with us. Thus, if we were to lie dead in front of them, they would probably try to get a reaction from us by nudging our face with their snout. We wouldn鈥檛 respond, and this would probably cause our dog frustration or stress. When dogs are stressed, they tend to lick things 鈥� a self-soothing behaviour that calms them. So they might start licking our face, nibbling on it, and at some point they would draw blood and, well, one thing would lead to another.
What is interesting is that a pet dog鈥檚 fixation on the face suggests this behaviour is born out of love for their carer and anguish upon the lack of response from that person. Thus, it may well be an expression of grief.
The study of animal grief has gained traction in the past few years with the development of a scientific discipline devoted to it, known as comparative thanatology. Despite the growing interest in this, the phenomenon of dogs that feed on their owners hasn鈥檛 been considered relevant. The lack of attention to this probably springs from an anthropocentric bias.
When researchers look for a capacity in animals, they tend to begin by searching for human-like versions of it. This is why comparative thanatologists have focused on cases like Segasira鈥檚. But if we only look for human-like reactions to death, we will get a distorted account of how other animals relate to it. Some species, like dogs, may grieve in ways that are alien to us, and others may not grieve, but still understand death, like a carnivore that has no reason to mourn the demise of prey but has had enough experience killing to comprehend the meaning of what they have caused.
Our own behaviour is the most logical and easy place from which to start the journey, but now this discipline is up and running we need to shed our anthropocentric shackles and open our minds to the many ways in which other living things may deal with mortality.
The study of grieving animals, and of their relationship with death more generally, may reveal more unexpected aspects of non-human psychology, but only if we are willing to see the world through their eyes.
Susana Mons贸 is the聽author of
