But like a lot of things, it might be out of our control. There’s new science showing an uncanny (so to speak) similarity between many dogs and their owners, both in looks and personality.
A recent examination of 15 different studies from around the world revealed that owners often acquire dogs that look like them in some way, so that people with long hair might prefer long-haired dogs — and weird people might like a weird-looking mutt.
In some of the studies, volunteers were asked to match pictures of dogs with pictures of their likely owners — and the matches were correct more often than random choice could explain.
One study found that women dog owners often had a hair length similar to the length of their dog’s ears. The experts reckon it could be a subconscious choice.
So I had to reflect on The Boss’s dog-like tendencies in a new light. Apart from his increasingly shaggy eyebrows and gnarly toenails I still don’t see a lot in the looks department — but dog-like behaviours are a different matter altogether.
One correlation that showed up in the studies was with extrovert or neurotic personality traits, where there was strong alignment between dog and owner.
The researchers say that personality and behavioural similarities between owners and their hounds deepens over time.
Undoubtedly, this is happening before my eyes. The Boss has quietly started to mimic my laid-back, relaxed approach to life: given a chance, he’ll nod off during the day like I do, particularly on a winter’s Sunday afternoon, in front of the fire, when it’s a competition to see who nods off first.
And he’s fallen in with my preferred routines, which are many. It’s taken a lot of work to get him there but he follows it now without thinking about it. In the morning it starts with letting me out to stretch and inspect the surrounds; then a back scratch, followed by a walk in one direction or the other along the river; then my breakfast, preferably in multiple instalments.
It took years to drum into him that I expect him to share his toast with me but now I can guarantee it. He hands the crusts to me automatically while he’s reading the morning’s news.
On the weekends, New Boy and I expect to be taken into town for some shopping — another habit that took some work to ingrain. And in the evening, we expect to be fed at the same time, no ifs, buts or maybes. We just become increasingly pesky in the half-hour before as a reminder — and it happens!
What this means is that he’s easier to train than I am and we have more or less reversed roles, with me as the master and him as the obedient vassal.
I give him plenty of leeway on our walks with his eccentric little habits, like calling back to the mountain ducks so they’ll circle around again, and annoying the thrushes by pretending to be one of them — but when he starts that guttural quacking like the black duck, I have to bark sharply to get him to stop.
I’m afraid of what might happen if he goes on.
It's only a matter of time before he starts drooling like I do, but with a bit of luck I’ll be gone by then so I don’t have to watch it. Woof!
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