Free Will?

Free Will: the ability to act at one’s own discretion[1]

Seasoned show biz pros vow that the show always goes on, no matter what the mishap. Often a star-crossed production reels in the audience who buys tickets not to merely enjoy the scheduled performance, but with a suppressed hope that Spiderman again falls from Broadway’s rafters, the race cars smash on the first turn, or the fat diva refuses to sing thus making her understudy a star.

Any savvy entertainment impresario headlines the biggest star to draw the crowds on opening day. That our celebrity is a cause célèbre, so much the better.

Tilikum returns to SeaWorld performances

Thus Tilikum, who lived up to his “killer whale” moniker by battering and drowning his trainer last year, made a big splash with his SeaWorld Orlando comeback on March 30. Thunderous applause from a capacity 5,000 throng in Shamu Stadium greeted the Charlie Sheen of orcas as he and his flippered troupe vaulted and pirouetted in a revised half-hour Believe rendition sans humans trainers.

Many patrons expressed delight that Tilikum returned to the watery stage and reassumed the Shamu legacy although some youngsters felt expressed fear upon seeing the serial killer whale, implicated in two prior human deaths.

“Free Tilly” critics protest that the stress of captivity, stud mating and coerced performances caused aggression in the orca. SeaWorld officials deny that they cannot push a six-ton whale around. They say Tilikum and the other orcas “choose” to participate in shows and that the acts provide “an important component of his physical, social and mental enrichment.”[2] That the marine mammals don’t perform on a full stomach, thus causing them to swim for their supper, is not mentioned.

Tilikum isn’t the only orca to hit the tabloids recently. Several other Delphinidaes received less sensational media attention:

Sumar, Kalina, Taima and the Others

In the wild, female orcas live an average 50 years while males often die earlier, at about 30 years, although some free-ranging orcas have lived into their eighth decade. Newborns experience a rough go early on as they depend on adults for care and learning. In captivity, however, killer whales usually do not survive past age 30 and few captive newborns thrive.[3]

Since 2007, 12 orcas have died in captivity including three (plus a stillborn calf) who perished in 2010 at different SeaWorld parks. Statistics show 10 were females, the oldest orca lived 28 years and the youngest just 60 days. Cause of death listed a variety of health issues, some rare to their wild kin.[4]

The deceased include Sumar, son of celebrity stud Tilikum, who suddenly died at 12 years old at SeaWorld San Diego last September. The next month, 25-year-old Kalina, nicknamed the “Original Baby Shamu” as the first orca born in captivity, passed away at SeaWorld Orlando of a “sudden infection.” Earlier last summer at Orlando, 20-year-old Taima died while birthing a stillborn fetus.[5]

Dr. Marc Bekoff, famed ethologist, notes “SeaWorld uses Tilikum as one of their prime studs, as if they’re running a ‘whale mill’ like one would run a puppy mill.” He says that the marine park explains away these deaths as “unexpected” but there’s “…nothing mysterious and unexpected about the death of animals who are exploited for the big business of aquariums…continually stressed…to entertain the public by performing…unnatural tricks and to make babies who are transferred here and there at [whim]”[6]

Lolita

Lolita became yin to the famous “Free Willy” star Keiko’s yang. At age 44, she ranks with SeaWorld San Diego’s Corky II as the oldest orca in captivity (at least in America). Ever since the post-movie “Free Willy” crusade in 1993, advocates want to release her back into the Penn Cove, Washington State waters where she and kin were captured in 1970. While at least 13 members of her L25 Southern Resident orca pod, now an endangered species, were slaughtered during the kidnapping, her mother Ocean Sun approximately age 82 still swims in their Pacific Northwest home. Lolita retains the specific L25 dialect calls of her family.

Lolita has resided at Miami’s Seaquarium since 1970. She and her mate Hugo performed together for nearly nine years, until Hugo died in 1980 after repeatedly ramming his head into the concrete walls and window of his tank in what advocates called an act of “suicide.” Since then, Lolita, an extremely social animal, has lived alone in a facility worse than Keiko’s (including a tank just one-and-one-half her size), where she performs twice daily.[7]

Lolita performs in tiny Miami Seaquarium pool

In March, Lolita failed to perform due to a reportedly abscessed tooth with which she has suffered for several years. When contacted by journalists, marine officials gave various excuses for her absence including “tank maintenance.” Her tank atypically remained lighted at night and eyewitnesses spotted a helicopter landing close to the facility[8]

After a two-week truancy, Lolita returned to perform two shows. Seaquarium officials provided no further explanation of her medical condition. Advocates who have demanded Lolita be freed for the last 18 years, believe age, safety and health issues require her immediate retirement. Several experts, including those connected with the “Free Willy” attempt, offer a plan to release her into her native sea, but Seaquarium owners refuse to put their star moneymaker out to a watery pasture.

Morgan

The current cetacean blowup concerns Morgan, a lost juvenile orca found in the North Sea in June 2010. She currently rehabs at the “Dolfinarium Harderwijk” in The Netherlands where her health dramatically improved. Now the question is — what next?

Although the “stated” goal for any rehabilitated marine mammal supposedly mandates re-release into the wild, in many cases with young dolphins or orcas, the rule-of-thumb appears to be that any rescuee less than three years old remains too inexperienced to ever go home to the ocean. Then, government regulators along with “impartial” experts decide the “appropriate” facility for the juvenile, now captive in perpetuity. Usually the prized cetacean ends up a performer at a SeaWorld-style facility, a swim-with-dolphins concession, or if lucky, an aquarium or reputable research center that allows some penned sea access.

Young rehabilitated orcas rarely return to the ocean. Because whales and dolphins dwell highly social groups with specific migration patterns and prey forging preferences, a recovered juvenile needs to be released near its relations. Orcas live in cooperative matrilineal family pods. Each individual displays fingerprint-like features and responds to specific “name” calls. Pod members communicate in a distinct dialect, easily detected using underwater hydrophones.

Surprisingly, few researchers use such identifiable patterns to inventory individual whale or dolphin pod families worldwide, a clichéd justification for holding cetacean young in captivity. Of three recent killer whale reintroduction attempts, only one continues to live successfully in the wild, thanks to a dedicated US-Canadian consortium of government, academic, nonprofit and volunteer investigators in the Pacific Northwest who spent years systematically archiving resident and transient orca pods.[9]

Rescuers found a 2-year-old orca orphan they named Springer

Lucky Springer, free 10 years in Pacific Northwest

swimming alone near Puget Sound in 2002. Fearing she would die or be captured for a marine park, her protectors plied their extensive records to ascertain her familial pod. They relocated the British Columbia resident to her native waters, housed her in a sea pen to treat infections and tutor her on forging techniques, before releasing her to her kin. At first, the family rejected their prodigal dolphin, but soon an aunt took Springer under her flipper for an eventual homecoming. Springer celebrated her 10^th year of freedom with her relatives last December.

The conclusions involve Catch-22 conundrums. While Morgan was found alone in the North Sea, experts insist she only be returned to her specific natal pod. Because little, if any research, has been done to visually and audibly categorize pods in that region, no one knows definitively to which natal pod she belongs; therefore, she cannot be released to any other group of orcas. On the other hand, experts contend she cannot be released to fend for herself, because her prey forging skills seem doubtful (she was malnourished when found). Besides, her solitary swimming may mean that her home pod met with some “catastrophic event” and no longer exists. Also, attempts to conduct a “Keiko-like” progressive release offshore would be extremely “hazardous,” especially during rough North Sea winter conditions (and especially for the humans involved). In addition, Morgan became habituated to humans, for whom she relied for food, enrichment and socializing, so she may not wish top break that bond.[10]

So what happens to Morgan? The experts suggest several solutions. The most frequent resolution would “benefit” both Morgan and humans captivated by captive marine mammals:

“Given the fact that ‘dolphinariums’ as cetacean zoos are acceptable conditions to keep and display cetaceans for a large human audience, this whale could perhaps better be seen as an appropriate “ambassador” and kept in captivity.” [11]

Of course, if Morgan becomes a reluctant “ambassador” for her kin, she’d require and larger home and orca companionship so a mate would have to be relocated there, or she transported to another facility that could accommodate her and a friend for a life of entertaining enrichment. Other experts mentioned Morgan could be tutored on forging practices, released into the sea alone and let nature take its course, which they admit would likely be fatal. Only one expert proposed a “large sea-pen” in a North Sea bay or fjord area that would allow her stay in a protected sanctuary where Morgan could be provisioned by humans, if necessary, and possibly come and go into the ocean, if she desired.[12]

The “Free Willy” contingent also weighs in with their sequel of Keiko’s wild adventure albeit with lessons learned. The four-phased “Release Morgan Project”[13] comprises many of the strategic benchmarks incorporated into the “Free Willy” release plan along with specific contingencies for situations encountered with Keiko. Their proposal incorporates the “sea-pen” concept at a natural reserve off the Dutch coast. Morgan would learn natural forging skills and be escorted by boats during open-water swims. Hopefully, she would connect with free-ranging orcas who often accept strangers or learn to exist independently. A radio satellite tag would track Morgan in either case, and if she flounders, she could be shepherded back to the sea pen by her friendly boat guides. If all other attempts fail, a “soft release” approach would afford Morgan the security of the sea pen and the freedom to explore the oceans at will.

What Does Morgan Want?

Everyone seems concerned about Morgan’s best interests, but no one really knows what Morgan’s best interests are. Even the “Free Morgan” champions admit both altruist (pro-Morgan) and ulterior (pro-human) motives:

“This proposal to rehabilitate and reintroduce Morgan back to her open-water home fulfills both moral and ecological imperatives; we cannot allow this opportunity to be lost as we race to learn and improve our knowledge of the science of cetacean reintroduction.” [14]

The “Free Willy” experiment ran into complications because Keiko, too acculturated to humans, returned from the wild to visit homo sapien friends. Perhaps he became conditioned to the boats that led him on his wild excursions. When he was kept in the pen away from people, Keiko fell ill and died. Once an über-intellegent orca finds boats — and people — fascinating, he’ll not ignore them or be classically conditioned like pets to forget. We cannot erase memories of such a social, cognitive sentient being.

Captive Morgan awaiting her fate in The Netherlands

Neither Keiko nor Morgan hired a spokesperson (although many felt they filled that role). No one knows if Morgan finds a captive world less threatening than a wild one. Found alone, did he seek escape or aid? Or did we intervene due to misguided  compassion? Humans only assume we know the best thing for Creation’s creatures.

Morgan, Keiko, Tilly and other wild beings cannot tell us what they want, but not from inability on their part. Despite dogma of Descartes and the smug scientists, philosophers and psychologists who follow, animals speak to each other and to us. The mockingbird outside the door browbeats me to stay clear of her nest. Small prey animals signal to their cohorts whether predators come from ground or sky. Dogs grasp our most subtle gesture and timbre; they lovingly “talk” to us in our language, with fond smiles and attentive stares — signals that mean the exact opposite to their kin. Apes not only have rich body and verbal language, individuals from each Pongidae family — chimpanzee, bonobo, orangutan, gorilla — have learned to communicate to us in our language via sign language, computer or other symbols.

Whales’ haunting faraway songs, the dolphins animated clicks and whistles all manifest complex language abilities. In fact, dolphins sonar can see straight through to our very obscure internal essence. Orcas like Springer, Lolita, Keiko, Tilikum and Morgan converse in a family dialect and often hail other pods’ with mimicked calls. That avians, canines, primates and cetaceans communicate in languages that may lack anthropocentric versions of semicolons or participial phrases, cannot discount the fact of their communicative faculty.

Scientists doubt the cognition and intelligence of animals. Yet, I understand neither understand French nor Spanish, but I spoke to a chimpanzee in American Sign Language and he responded in kind.

The successful release of Springer back to the Pacific Northwest waters came not from human ingenuity but because researchers proactively cataloged the individual visual markings and familial idioms of each resident and transient pod. They knew Springer’s identity and with whom she belonged.

We don’t know where Morgan belongs because we cannot understand him. The international experts consulted lack knowledge of his home pod because they failed to observe the telltale markings and dialects of the orca pods in the region — and elsewhere around the world. Before we can make decisions about stranded, injured, rehabbed or captive cetaceans, we must be able to recognize who they are, where they came from and what they want.

In end, what happens to Morgan’s may not be in her best interest or her own free will. She may wish to return to the sea, with family or alone — or stay with humans friends. Right now our answers remain merely assumptions of those with good intentions and agendas of those with avaricious ambitions.

As Marc Bekoff said of Morgan’s future:

“In undertaking any apparent ‘act of good will,’ in order to help a wild animal, we must be very careful that we make choices that are truly independent of vested human interest, or the potential vested interests of a corporation that could then exploit this situation for their own profits.  While the initial intent to help may be earnest, the question of who decides on the individual’s future in such cases must surely reside with an appointed guardian who has no vested interest in keeping the individual in captivity. Such a guardian would not ‘own’ the individual, but give a truly independent voice for the individual animal’s interest.” [15]

In other words, we do not speak for animals. We must listen to them.

EDITOR’S NOTE:

For more information about the efforts to release Keiko, please see Free at Last! Free at Last? The Legacy of Keiko in our Essays section.

REFERENCES:

1] New Oxford American Dictionary

2] quoted by ABC News on-line, March 30, 2011

3] The Orca Project, blog entry October 5, 2010

4] Orca Project statistics

5] Ibid

6] Bekoff, Marc. “Tilikum’s son Sumar dies at SeaWorld,” Animal Emotions blog, Psychology Today, Sept. 8, 2010 

7] Orca Project Fact Sheet, Sept. 1, 2010 

8] According to The Orca Project blog March 8, 2011. While Seaquarium officials denied that Lolita was ill or that a helicopter that may be connected to veterinary intervention landed anywhere near their facility, eyewitnesses offered photographic proof of the copter incident.

9] Luna, a lone wild orca juvenile lived for five years in Nootka Sound off Vancouver Island, despite efforts of wildlife officials to move her. She died in 2006 from a boat propeller. Keiko (aka “Free Willy”) died in 2003 after an eight year attempt to reintroduce him to his native Icelandic waters.  iist of links to organizations. For me information about the organizations involved in Pacific Northwest orca identification research see the Orca Network

10] van Elk, Niels, “Expert advice of the releasability of the rescued killer whale (Orcinus orca) Morgan.” Dolfinarium Harderwijk- SOS Dolfijn. 14, November 2010

11] Camphuysen, Kees. Ibid pg 17

12] Ugarte, Fernando. Ibid, pg 26

13] Pijpelink, Peter; van Twillert, Jan. Free Morgan Expert Panel, “Suggestions for returning ‘Morgan’ the orca (killer whale) to a natural life in the ocean.”  November 3, 2010.

14] Ibid, page 2

15] Bekoff quoted by www.freemorgan.nl>

© 2011 by Audrey Schwartz Rivers and Argos’ Memories

Introducing…Essays

We’ve added a new blog section for Essays. These essays (mostly written by your not-so-humble blog editor) discuss animals in society, the wild and in relationships with humans. Many appeared previously in other publications or books.

The first essay entitled Free at Last…Free at Last? The Legacy of Keiko reviews the famous attempt to literally “free Willy” a captive orca of movie fame. First published in the March 2004 issue of Change Magazine, the article previews an upcoming, updated look at recent attempts to rescue captive orcas. Check here next week for our post entitled Free Will.

I hope you enjoy these essays. Always important to recycle!

Audrey

Spring Cleaning

Spring time reveals itself with hints of budding trees, grass sprouts, tolerable temperatures, and birds collecting nest bric-a-brac. And so I, too, am inspired to do a bit to tidying up on the Argos’ Memories blog.

Yes, I have been lax in regular updating this blog. Visions of “Argos Redux Part 2″ keep dancing with the Muses in my head. Herein lies the reason(excuse) for my winter posting hibernation: As I researched about Argos, I increasingly became waylaid by fascinating incidentals about dogs in ancient Greece culture, dogs and Homer, dogs in Greek classical literature, dogs and etc.

The information definitely would offer greater substance to the Argos Redux essays. Unfortunately, by publishing the Argos Redux essay series as blog entries as I initially intended, I limited my ability to post other topical information relating to animal cognition, communications, research, behavior and other issues.

Thus, the Argos’ Memories blog undergoes some spring cleaning (which my dusty, dog-downed house needs as well). The Argos Redux series now commands a separate permanent tabbed section in the blog that can be read in sequence (as soon as I finish them all). I added an “Introduction” with a “future”  appendix with supplementary articles.

As soon as the dust settles, so to speak, I’ll begin to post news, research and new essays on the blog, while I finalize Argos Redux, which I hope will make a contribution to human-animal bond literature.

Thank you for your patience. And Happy Spring!!

Audrey

Argos Redux: Part 1

Argos Redux

Part 1:  The Waiting Game

Why do we canonize canines as humanity’s “best friend forever”? Forget that hooey about unconditional love or the human-animal bond or even Lassie’s valiant barking whenever Timmy tumbles into another well. We rank dogs atop our domestic taxonomy simply because they hail us as gods come home.

Whether we depart for 15 weeks or 15 minutes, Fido’s fanatical fawning extols us as the Messiah resurrected anew. Such homecomings reassure canine companions of restored routine and dependable dinners while our self-esteem indulges the illusion that such greetings prove us significant and loved.

Scientists discount dogs’ (and other animals’) ability to tell time. They posit that dogs retain short-term memory of only hours or minutes. Unlike humans’ episodic memory that allows us to remember past events and related timelines, animals’ associative memory triggers by external stimuli such as smells, voices or situations, researchers suggest.[1] Behaviorists emphasize that animals, especially dogs, learn by conditioning, or reinforced behaviors. Dogs execute proper commands in much the same way a child learns to ride a bike — trial and error, success and reward — then the exercise becomes automatic.

Such scientists suggest that rather than grasping past and future events, all animal minds occupy the singular present moment, a Zen existence our own species might best emulate. Animals eat when hungry, eliminate when necessary, mate opportunistically, flight or flee appropriately, and greet our arrival not so much enthusiastically as advantageously for them.

However, any canine caregiver will attest that Fido is a bona fide timekeeper. The family dog perfectly attends to the daily household bustle. He acts as reliable morning alarm clock and herds children to bed at night. Each evening he parks at the window to curse that annoying jogger and to warn trespassing dogs not to poop on his lawn. Most of all, he’s the pack’s precise dinner bell (make that dinner bark).

Some researchers surmise that dogs really know when their persons head for home. Dr. Rupert Sheldrake, author of the book Dogs That Know When Their Owners Are Coming Home: And Other Unexplained Powers of Animals, notes that at least 45 percent of Americans believe their dogs display such anticipatory behavior. Sheldrake lists several possible reasons for this assumption: Natural circadian rhythms may provide the internal mechanism that alerts our pets to workday’s end. Fido’s superior olfactory and auditory senses may allow dogs to hear familiar car or bus engines from great distances. Environmental cues, such as phone calls or a spouse’s preparations may provide subtle clues. Humans might overlook times when the dog fails to react excitedly. Or, as Sheldrake proposes, dogs and significant humans share a close bond as well as special psyche connections and communications.[2]

Sheldrake extensively studied one British dog named Jaytee who appeared to possess this clairvoyance. Jaytee seemed aware when his human Pam headed home even if she left work at irregular times or took random routes. Although he watched out the window several times a day, his scrutiny significantly increased before Pam even turned on her car’s ignition — as she was organizing her desk for the next day. Interestingly, Jaytee’s surveillance intensified when he was at her parents’ home rather than his own flat. Sheldrake surmises that Jaytee’s behavior alerts other family members of Pam’s pending arrival.[3]

Of course, less progressive researchers discount animal telepathy or interspecies communication or even animal cognition as proper scholarship. One Jaytee does not a satisfactory study sample make. Scientific veracity requires exacting quantitative statistics not qualitative (i.e. anthropomorphic) anecdotes about what humans actually observe. Ethologists, such as famed primatologist Dr. Jane Goodall, who study animals in their chaotic natural habitats rather than sterile man-made laboratories, must rely on such observations and, horror or horrors, often identify their subjects with personal names not austere numerals. As another empathetic ethologist Dr. Marc Bekoff once said, “The plural of anecdotes is data.” [4]

Cultural Canine

People who share lives with animals will attest that their nonhuman companions do connect and communicate with them. For centuries, humans bred dogs both for utility and affection, and canines adapted extremely well to living in a human world.[5] Some evolutionary biologists even contend that humans and dogs evolved a “joint culture.”[6] Dogs became expert at interpreting human communications, particularly gestures. Dogs understand many words (as the frequent need to spell in their vicinity verifies) and, in turn, we understand emotional cues in canine barks and signals. Some people swear their dogs have different greeting barks for different folks, and recent research implies that dogs invent original communications for specific requests or attention.[7]

Whether we live with Velcro dogs or couch potatoes, dogs who welcome us as their prodigal human or who act out their separation anxiety by demolishing said couch, we cherish these demonstrations of doggy devotion. “The more people I meet, the more I love my dog” an old adage avows. Our dogs’ attention enhances our egos, defines us as lovable, reaffirms our humanity even in social isolation. Our dogs hike with us, hunt for us, perform our tricks, obey our commands, chase our Frisbees, lick our stubbly faces and sniff our butts with sheer bliss. If we assume such interspecies attention and activity culminates in an unconditional two-way bond, we vastly deceive ourselves.

For a dog shows love not by affirmation but with deferment. Since domestication, the dog has been forced to play the waiting game with its humans. Whether at the door, window, crate, kennel or chain, a dog constantly waits for our return. Waits to do our bidding. Waits for life’s necessities — food, water, shelter, exercise and the so-often-neglected potty run. Waits for a butt rub, ear scratch, tummy tickle, a pat on the head. Waits for one iota of our attention, for us to throw him a bone, literally or figuratively. That the dog, time conscious or not, spends most of its life marking time for our call, underscores a devotion that no human would tolerate in a intraspecies beloved.

The Waiting Game Mythos

Throughout history, some of the most poignant stories of the canine-human bond involve dogs who enact the waiting game for humans who will never return.

Greyfriar's Bobby

Disney broke our hearts with the slightly enhanced movie about Greyfriar’s Bobby, the true story of a tiny Skye Terrier, Bobby who spent 14 years — the rest of his life — guarding his cherished master’s grave.

Japan had its version of Bobby in the Akita Hachiko who knew when his human, a college professor, was to come home each night aboard the train.

Hachiko

One unfortunate day, the professor died on campus, but Hachiko continued to meet that train expectantly, only to be disappointed each time until his own death nine years later. A statue of Hachiko by his waiting spot at the train station remains a popular Japnese tourist attraction.

American sheepdog Shep rolls the stories of Bobby and Hachiko into one. Shep and his human herded sheep in Montana until the shepherd died in 1936. Shep devotedly accompanied his friend’s coffin to the train station only to be rebuffed from boarding. Shep stayed at the station to greet every train that stopped in case a resurrected master returned. Ironically, in 1942, the loyal dog was killed by a locomotive.

A bond, affinity, even love may have united Bobby, Hachiko and Shep with their caregivers in life and beyond death. Yet we do not honor this camaraderie alone when we erect statues to their faithfulness. Rather, their abandonment makes them legendary.

No other dog in fable or fact symbolizes canine-kind’s lifelong waiting game as Argos — the steadfast dog in Homer’s epic The Odyssey — who waited 7,300 consecutive days for his lost master’s return, and for whom we dedicate our blog.

Note:  The next installment of Argos Redux, “Part 2: The Threshold Dog”  will appear here in early November.  Please watch for it. Better yet, sign up for the Argos’ Memories RSS feed or e-mail subscription so you know when we post new stories.

References:

1: Roberts, William A. “Are Animals Stuck in Time?” Psychological Bulletin, Vol. 128(3), May 2002. pp. 473-489.

2: Sheldrake, Rupert and Smart, Pamela, “A Dog That Seems To Know When His Owner is Coming Home: Videotaped Experiments and Observations” Journal of Scientific Exploration, Vol. 14, 2000, pp. 233-255.

3: Sheldrake Ibid

4: Bekoff, Marc, Animal Passions and Beastly Virtues: Reflections on Redecorating Nature (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2006) 24-27.

5: Rivers, Audrey Schwartz, “Creative Canine: Original Intentional Canine-to-Human Communication” Chronicle of the Dog, Association of Pet Dog Trainers, Nov/Dec. 2008, pp. 25-31

6: Csányi, Vilmos, If Dogs Could Talk (New York: North Point Press, 2000)

7: Rivers, Ibid

Photo Credits:

1: Argos’ Memories logo dog: http://www.gutenberg.org/files/14080/14080-h/images/290b.jpg

2: Dog at Window:  http://pets.webmd.com/dogs/slideshow-behaviorial-problems-in-dogs

3: Greyfriar’s Bobby:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Greyfriars_Bobby.jpg

4: Hachiko:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hachikō

Welcome to Argos’ Memories — Finally

Today, after more than two years in the making (or, rather, several years in procrastination due to life interrupted), we officially introduce our blog Argos’ Memories: Thoughts about Animal Minds.

Argos’ Memoriess, named in honor of the loyal dog of  Homer’s The Odyssey fame, will include articles, news reports, essays, research and reviews about animal cognition, theory of mind and communication. We’ll also examine animals in literature, philosophy and culture among other themes.

Scholars frequently view the Argos-Odysseus reunion in The Odyssey as the first portrayal of the human-animal bond in literature . As our first official blog posting, we present a three-part essay entitled Argos Redux that re-examines the traditional interpretation of the tale of the patiently loyal hound Argos who waited 20 years for wayward Odysseus’ return from the Trojan War only to die upon finally gazing at his master. Our take — Homer got it all wrong!

We hope you enjoy our Argos Redux essay series as well as our ongoing Argos’ Memories blog.  Please have patience with us as we navigate the enigmas of cyber-writing. We look forward to your comments, discussion, suggestions and feedback.

Audrey Schwartz Rivers

Blog Editor