Chapter 1: The Science of Positive Psychology and Dogs CHAPTER 1 The Science of Positive Psychology and Dogs For all their time and effort spent sniffing each other, dogs are incredibly smart. Depending on the breed, they can learn more than 150 words, count to four or five, do simple sums, and solve puzzles. There is also evidence they can anticipate the near future, trick others, operate mechanisms like door latches and light switches, and, in what was a surprise to me, even drive cars. In 2012 in New Zealand, Monty, then an eighteen-month-old giant schnauzer cross, Ginny, a one-year-old beardie whippet cross, and Porter, a gentle ten-month-old beardie, each successfully drove around a test track unaided in a modified Mini. What''s more, they were able to do this after just two months of training, which, if my driving lessons are anything to go by, is certainly speedier than some humans. All three pups were young rescues, and thanks to the Royal New Zealand Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, the fast and furious press stunt challenged misconceptions around dogs'' abilities, and perhaps even caused some to rethink their dogs'' worth. At the time, the news dogs could be that intelligent made headlines around the world. But, if you love your dog with a passion and think they are the most amazing thing on the planet, there''s a good chance you''re thinking, "I bet mine could drive, too," and probably fantasizing about them picking you up after happy hour in your minivan.

You will already be convinced of your dog''s cleverness, just like you intimately know how well they cope with disappointment, their endless energy for learning, and, if their dinner arrives a little late, what absolute sticklers they are for routine. They will stare you down with such an urgent expression that it is as if they''re tapping at a tiny dog-wristwatch, huffing impatiently, and rolling their eyes. Behaviors like these suggest our canine companions might embody many of the psychological traits humans have. In fact, they can indeed operate with something like a sense of fairness and empathy, be forgiving and resilient after enduring hardships, and even be present-minded. As with humans, not every dog embodies all the best qualities they''re capable of, and we might occasionally misinterpret what they are truly thinking (more on that later). But at least the science is crystal clear: dogs have remarkable, innate emotional and social intelligence and an enviable capacity for adaptation. Like I said, they''re smart. As I share my life with some of the internet''s most beloved dogs (oh, and my husband, Ingo), I see these incredible humanlike qualities every day.

From our out-of-the-way 1990s waterfront house perched on an old coral reef in the Florida Keys, we post about our rolling cast of six bighearted, high-drama, totally unique golden retrievers, each with their own quirks, backstories, and emotional needs. Some are goofy extroverts. Others arrived with deep fears and complicated pasts, and others have physical disabilities and impaired vision, even blindness. One thing they have in common? Each member of the Golden Ratio squad, as they have come to be known, has the ability to grow, heal, and bounce back from adversity. As a scientist and academic, I''m also one of those very online people. In the aftermath of the 2016 presidential election, I noticed a change of tone on social media, and the data showed a worrying rise in animosity. To put it bluntly, everyone was angry, regardless of whom they had voted for. I needed a place online where I could dodge the trolls and escape the negativity.

Then, it came to me: What''s more wholesome and uplifting than a pack of golden retrievers? I started an account on what was then known as Twitter, @TheGoldenRatio4, and began posting group pics and sharing the real-life escapades of our squad. The Golden Ratio community grew from there and we''re now nearing one million followers strong, sharing stories, online events, and even real-life meetups. In 2019, we even had a sold-out live show at the Athenaeum Theatre in Chicago. Rather than posting about our dogs as "rescues" or "seniors" (although many of them are), Ingo and I found we wanted to celebrate their personalities, emotional range, and surprising capacity for mischief. And we soon learned that rather than trying to fix all their many problems, which always seemed to put us on a back foot, things just flowed better if we focused on their strengths. With all their incredible intelligence, complex behaviors, and endless ability for jaw-dropping silliness, instead of wondering, "What the heck is wrong with this crazy dog?," we tried to ask: "What strengths can we help this pup grow? What can we do to really help this dog thrive?" The idea for Think Like a Dog came out of years of precisely these questions, and backing up our experience with scientific research to supercharge a dog''s development and truly help them flourish. It led me to explore studies and scans and systematic reviews that might unlock the mysteries hidden inside a dog''s mind. Why do our pups'' psychological capabilities so intriguingly reflect our own, and why, at times, do they seem to exceed them even? Above all, given that we can use science to identify and study these qualities, I wanted to know: Can we also use these findings to make our dogs'' lives better? Although much knowledge can be gained through at-home observation, I needed evidence.

I wanted to know exactly why Zola seems to bark when she is overexcited, the reason Remi gets upset when he sees Feta get a treat before Ella does, and why Guac can''t sleep unless he has a full body-size plushie shark clamped in his jaws, one leg swung over the tail. I also needed to know just how some of my dogs bounced back so brilliantly after enduring hardships like life-altering surgeries, abandonment, and abuse. Show me the receipts, as they say. With six goofy test cases in front of me, and endless hours of anecdotal evidence and emergency vet adventures, I started to dig into the hard data to try to understand what I was seeing. I turned up a tangle of surprising and fascinating findings, evidence from human and canine psychology, neuroscience and functional MRI studies, animal cognition experiments, canid observations in the wild, plus insights from behaviorists and specialist trainers on how dogs think, feel, and ultimately thrive under the right circumstances. After long hours of research, I stumbled on something that both pulled everything together and offered a way forward. Underlying everything I learned--flashing like a neon sign--was a school of human psychological thought that has become the bedrock of modern therapy and even contemporary ideas around self-care. Pioneered in the 1950s and ''60s, but only popular since the late 1990s, are the principles of Positive Psychology.

Designed to explore human flourishing, identifying and revealing character strengths and learning how to develop them, Positive Psychology is arguably the most culturally influential type of psychology today. I soon realized that many of the twenty-four traits Positive Psychology focuses on, the ones that lead to a fulfilling human life, map onto the almost exact same ones we love in our dogs . In fact, it gave me the framework to explore bigger, more hopeful questions about the emotional lives of our pups. What''s more, these traits can be scientifically evidenced, strengthened, and practically applied in real life. The more I learned about this science of human flourishing, the more I saw it in my own dogs, not just the especially "good" ones, but even the wild, chaotic, eat-my-albuterol-inhaler ones (in fact, especially those ones). But could I really use human psychology to help my dogs? Isn''t that against the rules? The scientist in me bristled. As author John Bradshaw, director of the Anthrozoology Institute at the University of Bristol in the UK, notes in his book Dog Sense , "Science has so far been unable to tell us how self-aware dogs are, much less whether they have anything like our conscious thoughts. This is not that surprising, since neither scientists nor philosophers can agree about what the consciousness of humans consists of, let alone that of animals.

" At first glance, this uncertainty might seem like a reason to stop short. But living with dogs isn''t a philosophy class: we still have to interpret behavior, make training decisions, hand out mini meatballs, and respond to emotion in real time. In that messy, slobbery middle ground, borrowing carefully from human psychology is a workable way forward, rather than a bold claim that dogs are exactly like us. After all, there are some important differences in how dogs and humans engage with the world. For example, when people interact with other people, our behavior is typically based on an implicit understanding that we are all able to think about each other in the moment, according to Bradshaw. By contrast, "dogs'' social intelligence seems to be driven by much simpler, though highly effective, processes, whereby they simply compare what is happening in the here-and-now with what has happened in similar situations in the past. What it does give them is an almost Zen-like detachment from the baggage of expectation." That''s not to say that dogs don''t possess some aspects of theory of mind--the ability to attribute intents, beliefs, desires, and emotions to others--because they absolutely do.

It''s why dog owners often know exactly who their pups like less than others. Part of the reason for this might be found in a 2021 study in the journal Scientific Reports , where researchers at the University of Göttingen in Germany e.