A vet has warned how a ‘hug’ can make a dog feel, and it’s not necessarily what you would expect
A vet has warned that it could be a bad idea to ‘hug’ your dog, as it could have the opposite effect on them to what us humans feel.
There’s nothing nicer than coming home from a long day at work to your furry friend scurrying as fast as they can to the door to greet you.
Your natural reaction is usually to bend down and give them a big cuddle, and whilst it might look like they’re loving every second – it might not be what they’re really feeling.
Dog experts are now warning owners to find different ways of showing their love.
According to a vet who spoke to Psychology Today, a hug can actually make a dog feel quite anxious and trapped – this is because a dog’s primary defence is to run away.
Psychologist Stanley Coren explained: “Yes, your dog may leap into your lap and kiss your face, cuddle against your neck, and beg you to rub her belly.
“But that’s not ‘hugging.’
“In my experience, many dogs don’t enjoy having a human move one or two arms around their shoulders and squeeze.
“That’s the hug we are talking about.”
Behaviour Vets author Lauren Novack believes dogs who do enjoy hugs are a complete ‘exception’, reports Daily Paws.
She said: “When dogs don’t like something and politely ask for space over and over again to no avail, they’re likely to escalate their communication to growling or biting.
“I don’t want dogs to be stressed, and I don’t want humans to get bitten. For most dogs, hugs are stressful.”
Stanley previously analysed 250 photos of dogs being given hugs, and he found that in 80% of the images, the dogs showed signs of looking stressed.
And he noted that this can be indicated by a dog lowers their ears, closing their eyes, or turning away from the source of anxiety.
And the psychologist has now revealed some much better alternatives.
He said: “The clear recommendation to come out of this research is to save your hugs for your two-footed family members and lovers.
“It is clearly better from the dog’s point of view if you express your fondness for your pet with a pat, a kind word, and maybe a treat.”
And the last thing we want to do is upset our furry babies, so we’re definitely going to take this advice on board!
I Allowed a Homeless Woman to Stay in My Garage—One Day I Walked in Unannounced and Was Shocked by What I Saw
I tapped the steering wheel, trying to shake the weight on my chest, when I spotted a disheveled woman digging through a trash can. I slowed down, drawn in by her grim determination.
She looked fragile yet fierce, fighting for survival. Without thinking, I pulled over, rolled down my window, and asked, “Do you need help?”
Her response was sharp but tired: “You offering?”
“I just saw you there,” I admitted, stepping out. “It didn’t seem right.”
“What’s not right is life,” she scoffed, crossing her arms. “You don’t strike me as someone who knows much about that.”
“Maybe not,” I replied, then asked if she had a place to stay.
“No,” she said, and I felt compelled to offer my garage as a temporary home. To my surprise, she accepted, albeit reluctantly.
Over the next few days, we shared meals and conversations. Lexi’s sharp wit broke through my loneliness, but I could sense her hidden pain.
One afternoon, I barged into the garage and froze. There, sprawled across the floor, were grotesque paintings of me—chains, blood, a casket. Nausea hit me.
That night, I confronted her. “What are those paintings?”
Her face went pale. “I didn’t mean for you to see them. I was just… angry.”
“So you painted me as a monster?” I demanded.
She nodded, shame in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
I struggled to forgive her. “I think it’s time for you to go.”
The next morning, I helped her pack and drove her to a shelter, giving her some money. Weeks passed, and I felt the loss of our connection.
Then, a package arrived—another painting. This one was serene, capturing a peace I hadn’t known. Inside was a note with Lexi’s name and number.
My heart raced as I called her. “I got your painting… it’s beautiful.”
“Thank you. I didn’t know if you’d like it,” she replied.
“You didn’t owe me anything,” I said, reflecting on my own unfairness.
“I’m sorry for what I painted,” she admitted. “You were just… there.”
“I forgave you the moment I saw that painting. Maybe we could start over.”
“I’d like that,” she said, a smile evident in her voice.
We made plans to meet again, and I felt a flicker of hope for what could be.
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