Tough as Nails
Why Some Dogs Don't Show Pain
There's nothing quite like watching your dog come home from a great outdoor adventure, tired, happy, and ready for a well-deserved nap. Unless, of course, you discover that somewhere along the way, he managed to acquire a rather nasty injury without letting on that anything was wrong.
And that's exactly what happened to us.
Ted recently took the boys out to Hilltop for another run. These outings have become something of a tradition, which is wonderful because Ted has always wanted a dog (or two) who could accompany him on his trail adventures.
Gus came home looking perfectly happy and completely unbothered. No limping, no whining, no obvious signs of discomfort. Nothing to suggest that anything had happened during their outing.
Later, though, I noticed him licking his legs. Thinking he'd picked up some pollen or other plant irritant along the trail, I grabbed a few wet wipes to clean him up. That's when I discovered the blood.
After a closer inspection, I found a pretty ugly gash on his rear ankle. It wasn't life-threatening, but it was certainly the kind of injury you'd expect to earn a limp and a few complaints.
Fortunately, we'd recently put together a first-aid kit for an upcoming trip, so I pulled it out, cleaned the wound, and got him bandaged up.
But I couldn't help wondering: How on earth did he manage to run around with an injury like that without showing any signs of pain?
It turns out there's quite a bit more to the subject of canine pain than whether a dog limps, whines, or otherwise makes a fuss.
Not every dog wears its heart on its sleeve
If you've owned more than one dog, you've probably noticed that they don't all react to things the same way. One might let you know in no uncertain terms that something hurts, while another seems perfectly content to carry on as though nothing has happened.
Part of this comes down to individual differences in how dogs experience and express pain.
Veterinarians often distinguish between three different things: pain sensitivity, pain tolerance, and pain expression.
Pain sensitivity describes how readily a dog responds to something painful.
Pain tolerance refers to how much discomfort a dog can endure.
Pain expression is how clearly a dog communicates that something hurts through its behavior.
Those aren't always the same thing.
A dog might have a relatively high pain threshold, meaning it takes more stimulation to trigger a painful response. Another might experience the same stimulus more readily. And even when two dogs experience comparable discomfort, they may communicate it very differently.
And that brings us to an interesting question: Does breed play a role?
Born to work: does a dog's job influece its pain response?
For centuries, humans have selectively bred dogs to perform specific jobs. Retrievers were developed to retrieve game, often from cold water. Spaniels were bred to work through thick brush. Herding dogs were expected to cover considerable distances while navigating challenging terrain. Terriers pursued prey into underground dens and other confined spaces.
These weren't exactly cushy occupations.
Dogs performing these jobs needed physical endurance, determination, athleticism, and the willingness to keep working in less-than-comfortable conditions.
It's reasonable to wonder whether those same breeding practices influenced how these dogs experience or respond to pain.
There may be something to that idea, and researchers have begun looking more closely at the relationship between breed and pain sensitivity.
In 2023, researchers at North Carolina State University's College of Veterinary Medicine published an interesting study examining pain sensitivity in 149 dogs representing 10 breeds or breed types.
The researchers used controlled pressure and temperature tests to measure how readily the dogs responded to different stimuli. They also evaluated certain behavioral characteristics to see whether temperament might influence perceptions of pain sensitivity.
The results were fascinating.
For example, Maltese dogs demonstrated relatively high sensitivity, while Siberian Huskies, which veterinarians had generally considered highly sensitive, fell closer to the middle of the range. Some larger breeds traditionally thought to have lower pain sensitivity also showed average-to-high sensitivity thresholds.
In other words, breed does appear to play a role, but our assumptions about which dogs are naturally tougher aren't necessarily supported by the evidence.
It's also important to recognize the limitations of this research. The study measured responses to controlled stimuli, not how dogs react to actual injuries or how long they're willing to work through discomfort. And while it gives us some valuable insight, there's still plenty we don't know about the biological mechanisms behind these differences.
So, does being bred to work in demanding environments automatically give a dog a higher pain threshold? Not necessarily.
But it's an interesting question worth exploring as researchers learn more about canine pain.
The instinct to keep going
There's another piece of the puzzle worth considering: canine behavior.
Dogs are descended from animals that needed to be aware of their surroundings and protect themselves from potential threats. In a natural setting, displaying vulnerability could put an injured animal at a disadvantage.
Although our domesticated dogs aren't living in the wild, some of those behavioral tendencies remain.
And then there's motivation.
Anyone who's ever twisted an ankle during a game or finished a hike before realizing they were injured has experienced something similar. In the moment, excitement and adrenaline can temporarily mask discomfort.
A dog can be injured and still be highly motivated to continue whatever it's doing.
That's an important distinction.
Just because a dog is willing to keep running, retrieving, or exploring doesn't mean everything is okay.
The signs are sometimes subtle
One of the biggest mistakes we can make as dog owners is assuming that a dog who isn't limping or crying isn't injured.
Pain can manifest in all sorts of ways, and some of the signs are surprisingly easy to overlook.
Excessive licking or grooming of a particular area, changes in posture, reluctance to jump or climb stairs, changes in appetite, unusual irritability, and decreased activity can all indicate discomfort.
Some dogs become withdrawn. Others become restless or unusually clingy. And some simply carry on with their usual routines.
In Gus's case, the licking was what tipped us off that something wasn't quite right. Had I not investigated, I might never have discovered the injury until much later.
This is particularly important for people who hike, run, hunt, or otherwise take their dogs into the great outdoors.
Cuts, punctures, torn nails, abrasions, and other injuries can happen without an obvious change in behavior. Dense brush, rocks, uneven terrain, and other trail hazards can take their toll, even on the hardiest outdoor adventurers.
A quick post-adventure once-over is a good habit. Check paws, between the toes, legs, joints, ears, and anywhere else that might have come into contact with brush, rocks, or other hazards.
Pay attention to changes in behavior, too. Sometimes the first indication of an injury isn't a limp. It's a dog suddenly paying an unusual amount of attention to one particular spot.
And if you find a significant wound, don't rely on your dog's behavior to determine whether it needs veterinary attention. Deep cuts, wounds near joints or tendons, punctures, and wounds that may require closure should be evaluated by a veterinarian.
Tough doesn't mean invincible
There's something admirable about a dog who approaches life with enthusiasm and determination. We want our dogs to be confident, capable, and ready for adventure. But we also need to remember that a dog's willingness to keep going isn't necessarily an indication that everything is okay.
Some dogs are more expressive than others. Some may have higher pain thresholds. And some are simply very good at carrying on despite an injury.
Whatever the reason, it's our responsibility to pay attention to the little things they might not be telling us.
As for Gus, we did take him to the vet — just to make sure his leg wasn't going to fall off. (You can never be too careful.)
I decided a check was warranted after I noticed that he'd been licking the wound to the point that it had become red and swollen. Our vet said that if we'd brought him in on Monday, she might have considered stitches or staples. Closing the wound would have meant keeping him quiet for a couple of weeks to avoid reopening it or causing additional damage. And if you've ever met Gus, you know that just was not going to happen. This is a dog who treats our house as his personal Parkour environment.
So, for now, we're going with conservative wound care and breaking out the trusty donut collar to keep that tongue where it belongs. Wish us luck.
He'll be ready for his next Hilltop adventure as soon as he's healed and cleared to return to running.
Because apparently, some dogs are determined to prove they're indestructible, regardless of the evidence.
As always, this post is for informational purposes and is not a substitute for veterinary care. If you have concerns about your dog’s health, contact your veterinarian.
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