The question of sentience is crucial because it forms the basis of arguments surrounding the ‘rights’ of dogs. If they are mere objects, devoid of any sign of sentience, then we can all too easily dismiss the notion that dogs have any rights at all. Rather, as simple objects they are owned by individuals who may do as they wish with said objects with impunity. On the other hand, if dogs have a level of sentience akin to that of humans then by default they should also have the rights that have been enshrined for humans in a variety of universal laws thanks to the United Nations, among other bodies.
With the argument about the sentience of dogs still unresolved it is difficult to determine what the rights of dogs should be. Therefore, rather than relying on science to provide the answer, societies and individuals must continue to decide for themselves on the question of sentience and the related issue of rights. To me, it is clear that dogs do have a kind of sentience; that they are capable of independent thought and of understanding and interacting with different species (most notably, though certainly not exclusively, humans). Is this sentience the same as humans possess? No, I would suggest that it is not, while at the same time suggesting that just because it is not does not mean it is of lesser importance.
So where does this leave the debate about the rights of dogs? If we assume they are sentient beings then we must accept they have rights; rights that relate to their physical and mental well-being. Yet since the dog cannot speak the same language as humans there remains the potential for misinterpretation, wilful or not, with good intentions or otherwise, concerning the needs of dogs and hence the requirements for their welfare and by extension the defining of their rights. At one extreme Rudy (2011) has stated that those proposing the strongest animal rights have suggested we should stop breeding domesticated animals; that we should not cuddle or walk them or use them in our leisure. For me personally this is several steps too far and is also a human-oriented view rather than one that truly takes the animals’ views into consideration. Domesticated animals exist because of humans and would cease to exist without our active involvement. While we can argue that the initial involvement was misguided, abandoning such animals now will lead to their extinction, something that is more appalling, at least to me, than the original domestication of animals. With specific reference to the dog, it is clearly an animal that through its heritage and human-influenced breeding is strongly bonded to humans. To deprive it of such contact is to take a moral high ground that ignores the mental well-being of a species and the associated right of the dog to be with humans if it so wishes.
Consequently, rather than suggesting a blanket ban on dogs to fit well with an idealized standpoint on animal rights that ignores the reality of human–animal interactions that can be beneficial for and desired by all participants, I adopt a more nuanced approach that has the welfare of the dog at the centre. In this way I have no argument with the five freedoms promoted by the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (RSPCA), among others (freedom from hunger and thirst; freedom from discomfort; freedom from pain, injury and disease; freedom to express normal behaviour; and freedom from fear and distress (Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, 2012)) but I would position them in a framework that is constructed around the recognition of the sentience of animals and therefore sees them as social actors rather than passive objects.
Within my perspective the focus is on ensuring the physical and mental well-being of the dog and recognizing that the interaction between dogs and humans can be central to both the achievement and destruction of this well-being. In this manner I would fit under Rudy’s (2011) definition of an ‘animal welfarist’. In this way I recognize that the lives and welfare of dogs (like all domesticated animals but more than most) and humans are closely intertwined and to speak only of or to one is to miss this crucial point. To me, this means that it is necessary to reject Rudy’s (2011: 9) assertion that animal welfare means ‘humans still hold all the power’. Yes, one may have more of one type of power than the other but this is not the same as saying dogs have no power of any kind. Even if humans do hold more power, from a welfarist standpoint the important point to note is that with this power (indeed power of any kind) comes the responsibility to wield this power appropriately; not for the benefit of those in power but rather for all (human and non-human). The core issue then is not power but responsibility and the responsible use of power. In this way I would suggest that Kiley-Worthington’s (1990) assertion that animal welfare is ultimately a matter of moral judgement is not entirely accurate. We may as humans be in a position of power where we can impose our moral values on animals, but welfare is about more than this, it is about being able and willing to listen to the animals and their needs, and bend our morality to meet their position rather than simply impose it on them. Looked at in one way, such a position suggests a lack of equality between humans and dogs but this is based on the idea that there is no difference between dogs and humans. There are differences and to ignore them is disrespectful to both species. I agree with Singer’s (2004) view that the concept of equality extends beyond treating different animals in exactly the same way or giving all the same rights. The important point is not equal treatment, but equal consideration, which can lead to different rights for different animals. ‘Consideration’ becomes the key word here: of truly listening to and considering the ‘other’, human or otherwise.
Cultural Constructions of ‘Dog’ and the Human Owner/Companion
As Bekoff (2007: 156) noted: ‘How animal images and live animals are represented in advertisements, on television, in movies, in cartoons, and in other forms of entertainment influence what people come to believe about them.’ In this way the media may be seen as the constructor of the sociocultural view of the ‘dog’. Yet this is an oversimplification of a more complex reality that is at the heart of the never-ending debate surrounding the relation between human agency and structure. The media as the representation of culture certainly builds a picture of what a dog is and how it relates to humans and should be treated, but the media is itself influenced by the images held by the individual. In effect it is a never-ending feedback loop with no beginning and no end. To try and find which originally caused the other is a fruitless endeavour when the reality is that they are both intimately related to one another. The situation is even more complicated when it is recognized that we are dealing with not just the view of humans but the dogs’ perspective as well. This leads to the question of whether the sentience of the dog is simply a product of human cultural constructs or a reality now being integrated into human culture. The answer is that one feeds off the other. Dog sentience is real but its specific nature is coloured in the eyes of humans by human culture, which in turn is influenced by the media.
There are instances where fictional dogs have morphed into physical tourist attractions, as shown in Fig. 1.2 where Gromit, of Wallace and Gromit fame, has become a larger-than-life and very colourful tourist attraction in parts of the UK; the representation in Fig. 1.2 was spotted outside the entrance to Bristol Zoo. Statues such as the Gromit one are popular tourist attractions because of how they depict the character seen on television