Periodically I’ll attend a meeting at which someone will passionately pronounce that we should forget about wolf, wild dog, small wildcat, and any other animal studies except those regarding dogs and cats because they’re irrelevant to what our pets do. According to them, we should focus all our energy on the behaviors displayed by companion animals right here and right now. I can understand the logic behind this approach, but I can’t accept it for one perhaps selfish, but also highly practical reason.
To dispense with the selfish part first, few feelings delight me more than the realization that something that appears mind-numbingly complex and unique to a particular species shares common and quite elegant roots with all others. The highly practical reason is simple: it enables me to better diagnose and treat companion animal problems Three areas of current scientific research on “lower” animals demonstrate these connections quite clearly.
The first involves that incredible bearer of genetic revelations, the lowly fruit fly, Drosophila melanogaster. Scientists have demonstrated that the same gene associated with male sexual behavior is also associated with starvation tolerance. Of course, this connection makes sense given the elegant efficiency that underlies the workings of DNA. Males who are more concerned about finding a meal than a mate are less likely to reproduce than those willing to dedicate themselves to mating. Ditto for those whose intolerance to reduced or no rations makes them too weak or distracted to do the job. In both cases, chances are those males won’t be adding their genes to the gene pool.
What happens when we move this simple awareness into the world of companion animals? On the nitty-gritty scale, it might provide insight into why neutered males gain weight; perhaps castration turns off that gene and turns on one associated with searching for food. Perhaps something comparable occurs in reproducing versus spayed females. During pregnancy and lactation, females need to eat more, and sometimes a great deal more, to ensure the survival of their young. Females unwilling to do this won’t be adding their genes to the gene pool, either. On the other hand, were that same genetic component to function in nonreproductive animals, the rolly-poly results would be ready targets for predators and out of the gene pool, too.
Given the rampant obesity in the sterilized companion animal population, understanding such connections would seem of at least equal value to the formulation of yet another low-calorie pet diet.
In the larger scheme of things, however, this study makes the hazards of simplistic one-gene-one-disease/function thinking clear. A person who focused only on male sexual behavior or starvation tolerance might erroneously conclude that the two weren’t related at all. In the process of doing that, the opportunity to simultaneously resolve problems involving multiple systems would be lost. Worse, because the view of each singular problem may become so exclusive, it’s possible that any treatment in one area could worsen conditions in another. Granted we’ve been conditioned to view these side-effects as a small price to play for a singular problem’s resolution. Whether true or not (and increasing numbers question this), the fact remains that the presence of those side-effects further proves that the body functions as an integrated mind-body unit rather than a collection of isolated parts.
In a second study which made the national news, scientists discovered a gene in mice which, when disabled, gave rise to biochemical changes that reduced their level of fear, even to the point of resulting in foolhardy behavior in some cases. While those who specialize in behavioral problems might see this as a boon—”Yippee! If we can find a way to regulate the expression of that gene, we can treat all kinds of fear-related problems!”—to me that wasn’t the most amazing aspect of this research. The truly amazing and wondrously serendipitous aspect of this study was that the researchers were studying a gene that was already known to be associated with leukemia. True, we don’t know how the two are related, but it does bring to mind all those studies about the effects of fear on the immune response, with those white blood cells that function in leukemia being a prime component of that system. It also points out another reason for ensuring balanced behavior as well as a stable bond: both contribute to good health.
The final study explored animal location with “Oh, wow!” results. As so often happens, initially the focus was on what made animal forms of locomotion—flying, walking, slithering, swimming—so different. However, the more the scientists studied animal motion, they more they realized that there was a unified theory that explained them all.
Here again, this makes sense. Movement, like reproducing, eating (i.e. replacing lost energy), and responses to fear are so fundamental to the existence of life itself that it’s almost ludicrous to think that what we see in companion animals would be unique. Sure, different species add their own special twists and turns to the system. But if we dismiss the foundation on which they rest as irrelevant, those twists and turns have no meaning.
As I write this, I’m surrounded by three sleeping dogs and one sleeping cat. Each of them represents the best combinations of mind-body interactions extending back thousands and thousands of years to that point when neither body nor mind as we know them existed. At that point their, and my, roots go even deeper to a point where the complex processes of higher animals are stripped away to the basics, where the thousands of genes become a handful or less. While the complexities of domestic animal behavior and physiology may provide fodder for our problem-oriented mills, it’s in the survival of those past, often quite simple and elegant creatures that the lessons of survival are writ large.
Periodically I’ll attend a meeting at which someone will passionately pronounce that we should forget about wolf, wild dog, small wildcat, and any other animal studies except those regarding dogs and cats because they’re irrelevant to what our pets do. According to them, we should focus all our energy on the behaviors displayed by companion animals right here and right now. I can understand the logic behind this approach, but I can’t accept it for one perhaps selfish, but also highly practical reason.
To dispense with the selfish part first, few feelings delight me more than the realization that something that appears mind-numbingly complex and unique to a particular species shares common and quite elegant roots with all others. The highly practical reason is simple: it enables me to better diagnose and treat companion animal problems Three areas of current scientific research on “lower” animals demonstrate these connections quite clearly.
The first involves that incredible bearer of genetic revelations, the lowly fruit fly, Drosophila melanogaster. Scientists have demonstrated that the same gene associated with male sexual behavior is also associated with starvation tolerance. Of course, this connection makes sense given the elegant efficiency that underlies the workings of DNA. Males who are more concerned about finding a meal than a mate are less likely to reproduce than those willing to dedicate themselves to mating. Ditto for those whose intolerance to reduced or no rations makes them too weak or distracted to do the job. In both cases, chances are those males won’t be adding their genes to the gene pool.
What happens when we move this simple awareness into the world of companion animals? On the nitty-gritty scale, it might provide insight into why neutered males gain weight; perhaps castration turns off that gene and turns on one associated with searching for food. Perhaps something comparable occurs in reproducing versus spayed females. During pregnancy and lactation, females need to eat more, and sometimes a great deal more, to ensure the survival of their young. Females unwilling to do this won’t be adding their genes to the gene pool, either. On the other hand, were that same genetic component to function in nonreproductive animals, the rolly-poly results would be ready targets for predators and out of the gene pool, too.
Given the rampant obesity in the sterilized companion animal population, understanding such connections would seem of at least equal value to the formulation of yet another low-calorie pet diet.
In the larger scheme of things, however, this study makes the hazards of simplistic one-gene-one-disease/function thinking clear. A person who focused only on male sexual behavior or starvation tolerance might erroneously conclude that the two weren’t related at all. In the process of doing that, the opportunity to simultaneously resolve problems involving multiple systems would be lost. Worse, because the view of each singular problem may become so exclusive, it’s possible that any treatment in one area could worsen conditions in another. Granted we’ve been conditioned to view these side-effects as a small price to play for a singular problem’s resolution. Whether true or not (and increasing numbers question this), the fact remains that the presence of those side-effects further proves that the body functions as an integrated mind-body unit rather than a collection of isolated parts.
In a second study which made the national news, scientists discovered a gene in mice which, when disabled, gave rise to biochemical changes that reduced their level of fear, even to the point of resulting in foolhardy behavior in some cases. While those who specialize in behavioral problems might see this as a boon—”Yippee! If we can find a way to regulate the expression of that gene, we can treat all kinds of fear-related problems!”—to me that wasn’t the most amazing aspect of this research. The truly amazing and wondrously serendipitous aspect of this study was that the researchers were studying a gene that was already known to be associated with leukemia. True, we don’t know how the two are related, but it does bring to mind all those studies about the effects of fear on the immune response, with those white blood cells that function in leukemia being a prime component of that system. It also points out another reason for ensuring balanced behavior as well as a stable bond: both contribute to good health.
The final study explored animal location with “Oh, wow!” results. As so often happens, initially the focus was on what made animal forms of locomotion—flying, walking, slithering, swimming—so different. However, the more the scientists studied animal motion, they more they realized that there was a unified theory that explained them all.
Here again, this makes sense. Movement, like reproducing, eating (i.e. replacing lost energy), and responses to fear are so fundamental to the existence of life itself that it’s almost ludicrous to think that what we see in companion animals would be unique. Sure, different species add their own special twists and turns to the system. But if we dismiss the foundation on which they rest as irrelevant, those twists and turns have no meaning.
As I write this, I’m surrounded by three sleeping dogs and one sleeping cat. Each of them represents the best combinations of mind-body interactions extending back thousands and thousands of years to that point when neither body nor mind as we know them existed. At that point their, and my, roots go even deeper to a point where the complex processes of higher animals are stripped away to the basics, where the thousands of genes become a handful or less. While the complexities of domestic animal behavior and physiology may provide fodder for our problem-oriented mills, it’s in the survival of those past, often quite simple and elegant creatures that the lessons of survival are writ large.