Merle’s Door: Lessons from a Freethinking Dog

Merle’s Door, Lessons from a Freethinking Dog — Ted Kerasote

For some reason I’ve been putting off writing about this book even though it is one of the best books I’ve ever read. I loved every page of it. I’ve written this post several times in my head, but I never seem to be able to transfer those great columns from my head to the computer. Here it goes in what I am sure will be a totally different form.

When I bought Merle’s Door, I thought it was going to be a heart-warming story about a man who finds a dog in the wilderness, adopts him, and they live the rest of their lives together in happiness. On the one hand, that is what this book is about — the author meets Merle on an adventure in Utah, they bond, he brings Merle home with him to Wyoming, and they share the rest of their lives.

But as Kerasote is telling their story, he interjects it with research and science, why dogs do things, how dogs were first domesticated, what dogs want. He really gives insight into canine behavior, using Merle as an example. I found myself fascinated by the science, the why and how, probably because Maddie still is such a mystery to me. Plus, things he believes about dogs and their relationships with humans are things I’ve felt since Maddie came into our lives.

One of those areas is communication. Kerasote cites another work whose author believes “dogs are speakers of a foreign language and if we pay attention to their vocalizations, ocular and facial expressions and ever-changing postures, we can translate what they’re saying.”

“A man has to work to convey his thoughts to an ox or a sheep but he irritates a dog by an ordinary laugh, frightens him by an angry look, calms him by a kindly bearing. Who ever succeeded in frowning away a mosquito or pacifying an angry wasp by a smile?”

Throughout the book, Kerasote speaks in Merle’s voice, interpreting his thoughts from his expressions.

I love trying to interpret Maddie’s sounds and expressions. I’m still horrible at it, but at least now I know others believe as I do, that she is trying to tell me something with her looks and vocalizations, and she can understand me, my tone, my expressions (not that she always pays attention). Even the slightest change in tension or look can communicate something to a dog. For example, Maddie instantly knows we’re going for a walk or run depending on what I put on.

That ability comes from their wolf ancestors, who could interpret any slight change in body language of their prey. Since dogs have no need to analyze prey, they have channeled that ability to read their humans.

Kerasote and Merle lived a good life together, while still having their own lives.

Living outside of Kelly, Wyoming, Merle got a lot of freedom very few dogs enjoy. He was called the Mayor of Kelly, and made his rounds throughout the town, visiting human and dog friends. At the same time, he and Kerasote shared adventures in the wild and quiet times at home. Merle loved to dance and sing, and he and Kerasote would dance around their great room together, Merle’s paws on Kerasote’s shoulders.

I won’t mislead you, Merle dies at the end. I sobbed as I read the final pages of his death, and then the burial ceremony and party they held for him. Kerasote spent Merle’s final days by his side, making him comfortable and making sure he knew he was loved.

Earlier in the book, Kerasote shared a story he found in his research about canid domestication.

Skeletons of a person and a puppy were found in northern Israel, skeletons estimated to be 12,000 years old. The person lay on its right side, knees drawn up, head bowed forward. The fingers of the person and puppy touch. The person’s and puppy’s head placed so they are nodding toward each other in a final gesture of mutual regard and affection.

I can see Merle and Kerasote together like that, sharing eternity skiing and elk hunting, or just dancing together.

The Hidden Life of Dogs

All of a sudden, I have a new section in my home library — dog books. Some have been sitting on the shelf for months now as I have been neglecting reading books of any type. I have made an effort in recent weeks to read again, and after polishing off several other books I had already started, I read my first dog book. Hopefully I can continue reading — I forget how much I love sitting down with a book, and now I have a little black and white friend who sits with me most of the time — and share those books with you.

The Hidden Life of Dogs — Elizabeth Marshall Thomas

This was an interesting study in dog behaviors but left me feeling rather sad, not because of the death of the subjects, but because of the disconnect that ultimately occurred between the author and her dogs.

Marshall Thomas started studying her dogs when a husky she was watching leaped the fence every night and explored Cambridge, Mass., and the surrounding area. She wondered where he went and what he did, so she took to following him. His habits while out journeying — the way he would cross busy intersections, what and where he marked objects, how he acted when he met other dogs — were interesting. 

Marshall Thomas then began watching her own pack of dogs, which numbered about a dozen over her period of observation. She stopped training new puppies, leaving the task to the older dogs. She described in detail the pack mentality, the alpha dog and the hierarchy from there and how each dog knew its place. In fact, once when two females had litters at the same time, the higher-ranking female killed the other female’s litter. Only one female in a pack has a litter at one time and the female was doing what was natural to her.

(My experience in dog hierarchy: Maddie has always been the alpha when we have met other dogs. But Friday when we were out running, she submitted to a dog for the first time. A dog behind a fence began barking at us as we passed, and I thought that was that. But Maddie was acting odd. I turned around and the dog was following us, walking through its open gate. The medium-sized black lab came up to Maddie, who squatted and showed her butt to the dog. The dog sniffed her, and turned around and went home. Maddie usually faces the dog and they walk around each other to sniff. It was interesting to watch my dog not be the one in control.)

Eventually, Marshall Thomas moved to a place where the dogs lived in a large outdoor kennel. They evolved into a pack of dogs who had no need for their human owners. Where once these dogs were thrilled to see their owners after separations, now they barely acknowledged their existence whenever they would enter the kennel. The dogs even dug a den, furthering their similarities to a pack of wolves the author had once studied in the wild.

It broke my heart when the dogs no longer had any use for their humans, when their social circle was entirely other dogs. I cannot imagine having Maddie, feeding her, taking care of her, and having her ignore my existence in her life.