The Amazing History of Dogs

Be happy you did not live on Earth 35,000 years ago. 

Back then, large sheets of ice covered much of Europe, Asia, and the Americas. There were no nations yet, no cities or towns. For many of our early ancestors, life was a daily struggle. Many lived in caves or in huts made of animal bones. They hunted reindeer using stones and sticks. Danger lurked everywhere—diseases with no cures, saber-toothed tigers with 11-inch fangs, elephant-like mastodons with tusks as long and sharp as swords. 

But it was also during this harsh time—now known as the Ice Age—that something beautiful was born: the friendship between humans and dogs.

Scientists are only now starting to understand the long history of dogs. There are many mysteries. One thing is certain though: All dogs share a common ancestor, the gray wolf. 

Of course, a fierce wolf did not suddenly and magically morph into a yapping Yorkshire with a red bow. The change from wolf to dog occurred gradually—over millennia. 

Hundreds of thousands of years ago, humans regarded wolves as threats. Though generally wary of people, wolves sometimes preyed on humans. What’s more, they competed with humans for game. 

But at some point, a group of humans and a group of wolves teamed up. 

How did this happen? 

No one is certain; scientists are debating many possible answers. One common theory is that the relationship started when some bold wolves began venturing into human camps to gobble up scraps. Thanks to the extra food they were eating, these wolves thrived and gave birth to many pups. Some of these pups inherited their parents’ bold personalities and, like their parents, made a habit of snacking on leftovers from human meals. When those pups grew up, they passed their boldness on to some of their pups, who also hung around human camps. 

The cycle repeated over and over, resulting in generation after generation of wolves that were willing to get close to people. 

Meanwhile, people realized that wolves made effective guardians. They protected humans from dangerous animals—of which there were many. Giant hyenas, cave bears, cave lions, and snakes all posed threats to early humans. The presence of wolves made these terrifying creatures less likely to attack. So humans started encouraging the wolves—particularly the smallest and friendliest ones—to stay close.

As the centuries passed, the wolves living near humans started to change. Their bodies got smaller, their ears floppier. They became less aggressive and more eager to please humans. And at some point—probably 15,000 to 38,000 years ago—the creatures we know as dogs emerged. 

Dogs were the first domesticated animals—that is, animals bred and raised to live among humans and seek out human care. Today, there are many kinds of domesticated animals—cows whose milk we drink, chickens whose eggs we eat, and sheep whose wool we use for our clothes. 

But dogs were the very first.

For most of history, dogs were valued mainly for the jobs they could do. Ancient Greek shepherds used herding dogs to help manage their sheep. Roman warriors marched into battle alongside fierce war dogs. In ancient Egypt, some hunting dogs were so prized that when they died, they were mummified and buried with their owners. 

Dogs were utilized in other ways too. Before forks, spoons, and napkins became common, people wiped their greasy hands on dogs that sat near the dinner table. On icy winter nights, people used dogs as foot warmers. Some European kings refused to take a bite of food unless their dogs tasted it first. Only then could they be sure the food hadn’t been poisoned. 

In the Americas, native peoples used dogs as guards and hunting companions. George Washington plotted Revolutionary War battles with his hunting dog Sweet Lips by his side. In the 1800s, explorers Lewis and Clark journeyed across America’s western wilderness with a big black dog named Seaman. (Seaman once saved Lewis and Clark by chasing away a buffalo stampeding through their camp.)

We still have working dogs today—they sniff out bombs for the police, help guide the blind through city streets, and visit nursing homes to comfort the elderly. But the majority of dogs in the U.S. now are kept as pets. They sleep in our beds, lick our faces, and join us on family vacations. 

And it all began in the distant past, with a family of wolves howling across a dangerous, frozen land.

Scout, a little brown dog, seems to be going crazy. He bounces up and down like a furry ball, yapping and panting and yapping some more. His tiny pink tongue flaps from his mouth as he licks everyone in sight. 

“He’s just excited,” sighs 12-year-old Ruby. “He’s always excited.”

Since Scout’s arrival in Ruby’s home two years ago, the dog has been an endless source of slobbery licks, ear-splitting yaps, smelly indoor puddles, and brown stains on the rug. Nobody in Ruby’s family ever imagined that they would own such a spoiled, badly behaved little beast. Nor did they imagine that they could love an animal as much as they love Scout. 

“He’s so annoying,” Ruby moans. But then she snatches up the little dog and kisses his wet nose. “But he’s so cute!”

Ruby is far from alone in feeling over-the-moon affection for a dog. According to a 2015 survey by the Harris Poll, 96 percent of owners consider their dogs to be members of the family.  

So how did dogs come to be so beloved?

Dogs have been at our sides for tens of thousands of years. Until recently, however, unless you were very wealthy, the only reason to keep a dog around was for the work it could do. Dogs chased foxes away from chicken coops and cleared restaurant kitchens of rats. Dogs hunted for ducks and pulled sleds over snowy hills. In cities, firehouse dogs ran ahead of horse-drawn fire wagons, barking to alert people to get out of the way.

These hard-working dogs were too dirty and smelly to be allowed indoors. Dogs that became sick or injured either healed on their own or died; most veterinarians provided care only for more vital and expensive animals, like horses and cows.

But in the late 1800s, all that started to change. 

America was becoming wealthier. More people could afford to feed and care for a pet. Powerful new soaps could be used to scrub dogs clean and kill fleas. Companies started selling dog food, which made feeding a dog more convenient. Veterinarians opened offices just for treating dogs and other pets. In the 1950s, TV shows like Lassie and The Adventures of Rin Tin Tin cast dogs in starring roles, helping to make them even more popular as American pets.

Today, dogs occupy a special place in our homes—and in our hearts. Nearly 50 percent of American families own at least one dog, according to the American Pet Products Association. Americans spend tens of billions of dollars on their dogs each year—on everything from veterinarian visits and grooming to gourmet treats and high-tech gadgets like doggy treadmills. The Harris Poll found that 38 percent of U.S. dog owners cook special meals for their dogs. 

Most of these dogs don’t have to earn their keep. An adorable face and, of course, unconditional love are all that’s required of most pets—though dogs do help us in other ways too. Walking a dog several times a day can improve people’s health. Dogs can also help 

kids with autism and other challenges cope with stress. 

New research is helping to explain the scientific basis for our connection to dogs. In 2015, researchers in Japan found something interesting: When a human and a dog gaze into each other’s eyes, the brains of both species release a chemical. This chemical makes the human and the dog feel close. This is the same chemical that is released when a human mother looks at her baby. 

Dogs also have a desire to understand us, and that is unique in the animal kingdom. For example, when we point at something, dogs look where we’re pointing. Not even our closest animal relatives—chimpanzees—do that without being taught. 

Of course, the desire to understand humans didn’t stop Ruby’s dog, Scout, from chewing up a brand-new sneaker. Ruby forgave him though. He is family, after all. 

Scout may not chase away mice or guard a house like his ancestors. He does have a job though: to love Ruby and her family. 

Maybe that is the most important job of all.

^{This play was originally published in the September 2017 issue.}