there are many differences. Some are developmental: for instance, dogs' eyes don't open for two or more weeks, whereas wolf pups open their eyes at ten days old. This slight difference can have a cascading effect. Generally, dogs are slower to develop physically and behaviorally. The big developmental milestones—walking, carrying objects in the mouth, when they first engage in biting games—come generally later for dogs than for wolves.* This small difference blossoms into a large difference: it means that the window for socialization is different in dogs and wolves. Dogs have more leisure to learn about others and to become accustomed to objects in their environment. If dogs are exposed to non-dogs—humans or monkeys or rabbits or cats—in the first few months of development, they form an attachment to and preference for these species over others, often trumping any predatory or fearful drive we might expect them to feel. This so-called sensitive or critical period of social learning is the time during which dogs will learn who is a dog, an ally, or a stranger. They are most susceptible to learning who their peers are, how to behave, and associations between events. Wolves have a smaller window during which to determine who is familiar and who is foe.
There are differences in social organization: dogs do not form true packs; rather, they scavenge or hunt small prey individually or in parallel.* Though they don't hunt cooperatively, they are cooperative: bird dogs and assistance dogs, for instance, learn to act in synchrony with their owners. For dogs, socialization among humans is natural; not so for wolves, who learn to avoid humans naturally. The dog is a member of a human social group; its natural environment, among people and other dogs. Dogs show what is called with human infants "attachment": preference for the primary caregiver over others. They have anxiety at separation from the caregiver, and greet her specially on her return. Though wolves greet other members of the pack when they reunite after being apart, they don't seem to show attachment to particular figures. For an animal who is going to be around humans, specific attachments make sense; for an animal who lives in a pack, it is less applicable.
Physically, dogs and wolves differ. While still quadrupedal omnivores, the range of body types and sizes among dogs is extraordinary. No other canid, or other species, shows the same diversity of body types within a species, from the four-pound papillon to the two-hundred-pound Newfoundland; from slender dogs with long snouts and whiplike tails to pudgy dogs with foreshortened noses and stubs of tails. Limbs, ears, eyes, nose, tail, fur, haunches, and belly are all dimensions along which dogs can be reconfigured and still be dogs. Wolves' sizes, by contrast, are, like most wild animals, fairly reliably uniform in a particular environment. But even the "average" dog—something resembling a prototypical mutt—is distinguishable from the wolf. The dog's skin is thicker than wolves'; while both have the same number and kind of teeth, the dog's are smaller. And the whole head is smaller on a dog than on a wolf: about 20 percent smaller. In other words, between a dog and a wolf of similar body size, the dog has the much smaller skull—and, correspondingly, a smaller brain.
This latter fact has continued to be promulgated, perhaps an indication of the ongoing appeal of the claim (now debunked) that brain size determines intellect. While erroneous, the smoothness of the shift from talking about brain size to brain quality trumped evidence to the contrary. Comparative studies with wolves and dogs on problem-solving tasks initially seemed to confirm dogs' cognitive inferiority. Hand-raised wolves tested on their ability to learn a task—to pull three ropes from an array of ropes in a particular order—well outperformed the dogs tested. The wolves more quickly learned to pull any rope to begin and then proceeded to