During the coldest winter days, my dog looks like this:

Jacket_BootsPeople pass us laughing. I guess I could think of it as a nice thing – we make people laugh. But mainly it is kind of embarrassing, maybe for both of us. I am not able to correct every passer-by that she wears the jacket just because she lacks an undercoat, and she wears the silly boots just because the road salt breaks her paws and those days anyone could see that she’s in pain. I am basically doing it again. I have a need to tell people that I don’t think that my dog is a human. Even though I kind of do. I don’t think she’s just any animal or just any dog. She’s this peculiar little person.

Last week I came across an article. It was about the 7000 years old dog and wolf bones found in Siberia. Or, more than about the bones, this article was about the placement of these bones – these bones were not found from just anywhere but from the large Middle Holocene hunter-gatherer cemeteries. The dog, a Husky-like male, was buried just like a human.

By this I mean that nothing in the bones or the grave suggested that this dog would have for example been killed and buried with a recently died human – to accompany a human. Instead, the analyses suggested that this Husky-like dog’s diet had been similar to that of people buried at the same place and it had old injuries, possibly from carrying burdens, that had partially healed prior to his death. This implies that it had been living in close contact to people and it had been taken care of by people.

I read this and I felt relieved somehow.

“They did it too”, I thought: “It was not our generation who came up with this.“




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