For Winn, buttons are not only completely unnecessary to the communication humans and dogs already have, but they can also distract from their natural barking and howling, tail wagging and tacking. “In fact, I think there's a risk that if you force a dog to press a button, you're going to run the risk of obscuring the dog's voice in terms of its own expression,” Wynn says. Rossano disagrees with this idea. “That doesn't mean they lose their first language,” he said. “They're still dogs. They still do what they have to do, bark at people, scratch at doors, try to get their toys. But they have other ways of communicating, and sometimes They also choose the means of communication, and I think that's interesting to study.”
Pet owners will tell you that their dog loves them unreciprocated, feels guilty, or plays jokes on them. But science shows that dogs don't always do these things. They may whine when you leave the house, but separation anxiety is not the same as missing you. They can tell when humans are sad, but scientifically speaking, that doesn't mean they care. But what is undeniable is the emotional connection humans feel towards their pets. Perhaps our language-loving brains need to express that bond in words to feel real. Julian Kaminsky, the comparative psychologist who led Rico's research, shared with me one of her recent discoveries. That's because dogs only have muscles around their eyes to give them that big, sad, puppy-like look. Wolves do not have this muscle. “This eyebrow movement probably doesn't mean anything to the dog,” Kaminsky told me. But it may have meaning for humans. It makes us want to care for the poor. When humans and dogs look into each other's eyes, each species produces oxytocin, the same hormone that bonds mothers and their children.
Kaminsky believes that dogs have evolved into creatures that we treat like our own children, and that Button influences this urge. “This is the trap we’re falling into,” she said. “We evolutionarily created this niche for young children and now we engineer other species to fit snugly into it. People can't help themselves; they think dogs are When I saw him pressing the “I LOVE YOU” button, I thought, “We're having a conversation.” ”
In August, I drove about three hours east of Tacoma on a dirt road to visit Alexis Devine and Bunny. Devine and Leo Trottier have sold more than 2 million buttons. Earlier this year, she moved into a stylish two-story cabin on 55 acres to give her dogs “more control over their lives.” It was fire season, so the hills around the cabin were covered in dry yellow brush. The moose moved to the opposite slope. Snow-capped Mount Rainier loomed in the distance. As soon as I parked, Divine's second and third dogs, an otter and a tenrec, jumped at the car. Divine put Bunny on a leash and kept him at a safe distance.
Since moving into the coop, Bunny's chronic anxiety and gastrointestinal issues have subsided. She wasn't that afraid. When she saw wildfire smoke rising around her cabin earlier that year, she put out the fire but wasn't worried. Her mood improved. She was playing with the otter rather than getting really angry at him. She was mostly confused about Tenrec, a tiny papillon who looked more like a stuffed gremlin than a dog. “She thinks he's a cat. She's said that many times,” Devine said.
