I have an embarrassing family problem to confess: My Shar-pei Bingo is a racist. It's gotten so bad that I can't take him anywhere anymore. I'm completely stumped on what to do about it. What do you do
about a racist dog?Bingo barks ferociously whenever he sees a dark-skinned person. He has literally tried to leap out of the car window to get at swarthy newspaper hawkers and cashiers at drive-through restaurants. He has sent dark-skinned meter readers, police officers and religious solicitors who come to our house running for their lives. He's several notches less aggressive toward lighter skinned people.
I can't imagine a worse behavioral flaw. Nothing in this world pushes my hot button faster than racial prejudice. I just can't abide this character deficiency in my own dog. I've checked several manuals on canine behavior for guidance, but found little help.
One theory offered is that a dark-skinned person may have been unusually cruel to him when he was young. We got him from a dog-loving family and have raised him since he was six weeks old. I know of no such incident of cruelty. He's lived a dog's life. Eat. Sleep. Get a treat. Eat. Sleep. Chase his tail.
Another theory is that dogs are strongly partial to the ethnicity of the families they are raised in. One resource had several stories of well-adjusted dogs who never could re-adjust when they were adopted by families of different ethnicity after their original families moved.
There's probably some truth to this, but it doesn't help in my case. There are both light-skinned and dark-skinned members of our family and Bingo is equally comfortable with all of us.
Yet another theory is that the dog picks up on its owner's vibes. If the animal senses that its owner becomes hostile or afraid in the presence of people of a certain ethnicity, he'll turn aggressive to protect the owner.
That doesn't seem to help either. Bingo becomes most agitated against people we encounter in the least threatening situations. The fast-food cashier is giving him hamburger. The street hawker is giving him a newspaper to gleefully tear to shreds.
I tried to test this particular theory by putting it to work for me. There's a menacing-looking light-skinned individual who comes into the neighborhood once in awhile. I don't want him anywhere near my house.
I once took Bingo out into the driveway to watch me direct some hostility at the guy in hope that the dog would pick up on it and bark like crazy when the guy came around. Bingo napped at my feet throughout the confrontation. The guy can still walk up and pet him through the gate without resistance.
I guess I can take comfort from knowing he's not the only dog with the flaw. When I used to take walks around the neighborhood, some dogs barked angrily when I strolled by and then stood quietly when a darker skinned person walked by a few minutes later. Other dogs reacted in the opposite manner when we passed.
What it boils down to is that dogs have no control of how they react to people and situations. They're slaves to their animal instincts. People, on the other hand, have the free will to choose to override animal instincts and behave in a civilized manner toward one another no matter what the temptation or provocation.
The answer to my dilemma is that we shouldn't be ashamed of our dogs when they act like dogs. We should be ashamed of ourselves when we act like our dogs.
David Shapiro is managing editor of the Star-Bulletin.
He can be reached by e-mail at editor@starbulletin.com.
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