Eat. Sleep. Play. Love.
There’s something about dogs which makes us live in the present tense. The routine rhythm of your dog’s day can be life distilled to its simplest beauty.
I love camping. Proper camping. Not the glamping variety where you can have a TV, wi-fi, fridge… I’m talking about a tent, no electricity. It’s not for everyone, I know, but bear with me here. I don’t go on camping trips so often these days, which I put down to getting older! And preferring the creature-comforts of a solid roof over my head. The jury’s still out on whether the dog agrees with this. And whilst I’m not pretending to be a wild camper (try doing that in the UK these days), alone with the elements on some truly wild mountainside, the dog and I do appreciate the quieter, off-beat locations. At least I’m sure he tells me he does!
What is it that drives this pleasure? Apart from being cheaper than renting a cottage, of course. For me it’s something about having to address life’s most basic concerns: where can we sit that has some nice shade to keep cool? Or how are we going to keep warm tonight? What are we going to eat – from where, and how are going to cook? Which direction shall we walk in? It’s distilling life down to its most basic, and during the process, modern life’s other worries seem to evaporate away. It’s about what I call living in the present tense. I’m not thinking about yesterday, or tomorrow, just today.
I was thinking about this when I had to move the (dusty) tent in the garage, and I was in a good mood. This was because I recently learned that one of the dogs I had been training (too briefly if I’m honest) has now embarked on training elsewhere to become a Therapy Dog. I was so happy about this. Not least because of the joy I know this very dog could bring, however fleeting, into the lives of some people less fortunate than me.
We always read about how dogs and other pets are good for our mental well-being. For someone enjoying a visit from a Therapy Dog, the physical connection – being able to touch and stroke the animal, reinforces the “feel good” chemicals being released in the brain. Just observing an animal go about their business or being goofy. Or just being endearing that happens to make us laugh or smile. These all have the same effect. There have even been studies on the chemical and hormonal release in your brain of making eye contact with your own dog. (Hopefully this is reciprocated!)
To these known chemical reactions we are also talking about the less tangible but very real emotional benefits of interacting with a pet. Here I’m talking about the heart, not literally the head! It’s a feeling. And that includes someone having a nice greet with the Therapy Dog, not just a dog owner’s daily interactions – the good ones, that is! But there is still something else going on, perhaps on a more primal level, that accounts for why we feel just that little bit “better” when we have a nice pet, hug, or playtime with our dog.
Sure, there is a benign Ego thing going on: “She’s always so pleased to see me when I come home!” But it’s a two-way relationship: a dog’s unconditional love brings out the altruism in us. I remember asking someone if they ever thought about having a dog, and their reply always stayed with me: “I’m not really a doggie person myself, but I think I’m more drawn to people who have dogs, because they tend to be nicer people!”.
But it’s something much more than this. It’s about the rhythm of the day, stripping things down to their primal basics.
There’s something about dogs which makes us live in the present tense. To live for the moment. Or just to exist in the Now.
I wonder what my dog’s thinking? I wonder what she’s dreaming about? Where shall we go for a walk today? Do you need some water? Is that itchy?! Is it dinner time yet? Where’s your favourite toy? Now there’s an interesting smell!
Training dogs reminds me every day of the beauty of their complexity: the subtleties of their emotional signals. And yet, for all their intelligence, they are driven by the simplest of things: eat, sleep, play, love. These primal instincts conduct the rhythm of the day. Today. And by co-habiting with our dogs we share in these things and begin to replicate them ourselves. And when we mutter sweet nonsense to our dog, because we’re crazy humans – come on, we all do it! – suddenly our worries about tomorrow seem less important. Even in just the smallest way. It’s that serotonin and dopamine kicking in, you see.
Of course dogs may have their own anxieties, but things like our love, or training, or whatever works, can help bring them back to being a dog, which is all they want to do. To live in the Now. That, and being a part of us. And when we bond with our dog, we share in that with them. Life distilled to its simplest beauty. Just the simple things. Just Today.
