WHAT DO ANIMALS KNOW? 



The stories, which seem to be well authenticated, 

 of sheep-killing dogs that have slipped their collars 

 in the night and indulged their passion for live mut- 

 ton, and then returned and thrust their necks into 

 their collars before their absence was discovered, do 

 not, to my mind, prove that the dogs were trying to 

 deceive their masters and conceal their guilt, but 

 rather show how obedient to the chain and collar 

 the dogs had become. They had long been subject 

 to such control and discipline, and they returned to 

 them again from the mere force of habit. 



I do not believe even the dog to be capable of a 

 sense of guilt. Such a sense implies a sense of duty, 

 and this is a complex ethical sense that the animals 

 do not experience. What the dog fears, and what 

 makes him put on his look of guilt and shame, is his 

 master's anger. A harsh word or a severe look will 

 make him assume the air of a culprit whether he is 

 one or not, and, on the other hand, a kind word and 

 a reassuring smile will transform him into a happy 

 beast, no matter if the blood of his victim is fresh 

 upon him. 



A dog is to be broken of a bad habit, if at all, not 

 by an appeal to his conscience or to his sense of 

 duty, for he has neither, but by an appeal to his 

 susceptibility to pain. 



Both Pliny and Plutarch tell the story of an ele- 

 phant which, having been beaten by its trainer for 

 its poor dancing, was afterward found all by itself 

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