5 Ways Our Pets Make Us Happy

A few years ago my daughter’s guinea pig started dragging one of her hind legs. Naturally I drove the tiny critter to the emergency animal hospital. Several hours, X-rays (broken leg), and hundreds of dollars later, as I waited to check out, someone asked what was in the box I was holding. When I told her it was a guinea pig, she practically gasped, “Wow, you must love your pets.” I sure do. Scampers is no longer with us, but I’m head over heels for our Sheltie, Ruby, and our cranky cat, Curry. Those two serve up huge helpings of comfort and love every day. We love our pets Pets are parts of more than 68 percent of U.S. households, a recent survey says. All those creatures contribute to the happiness and well-being of their families—even when they chew our shoes, shred the furniture, or kick impossible-to-vacuum cage bedding all over the floor. Why? Here’s what pet parents and the literature say about the role animals play in human happiness. 1. They get us off our butts (especially dogs) People who own dogs (and walk them) tend to be more active than those who don’t. A Michigan State University study found that folks who walked their dogs exercised 30 minutes more per week than non-dog owners. In fact, dogs can make better walking buddies than humans. A University of Missouri study found that residents in an assisted-living home walked 28 percent faster when they hit the trail with a shelter dog. Older folks who paired up  people moved only 4 percent more quickly. After 12 weeks, the dog walkers had greater fitness gains. 2. They keep us healthy College students who petted a dog had higher levels of IgA, an infection-fighting antibody found in mucous membranes, than those who stroked a stuffed animal. At the University of Wisconsin School of Medicine and Public Health, researchers found that a kid at risk of developing respiratory allergies or asthma was less likely to have symptoms like eczema and wheezing if the child had lived in a house with a dog since early infancy. 3. They help us to heal Owning a pet has been linked with a quicker recovery among people who’ve had heart attacks, according to the Cleveland Clinic, and with lowering elevated blood pressure caused by stress. Equine-assisted activities and therapies (EAAT), riding, caring for, and interacting with horses are beneficial for everything from autism and multiple sclerosis to deafness and Down syndrome. The Professional Association of Therapeutic Horsemanship International reports that more than 54,000 men, women, and children with special needs are helped by EAAT. 4. They unite families In many households, pets can help to smooth things over between warring spouses or squabbling siblings. Even when family members are barely speaking, they at least share delight in watching the guinea pig in its cage. Catherine Clifford, a mom of three kids, agrees. When their Havanese senses a family feud brewing, he tosses his stuffed hedgehog around to try to break the tension. 5. They’re like fuzzy bundles of happiness A trio of studies published in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, revealed that pets provide bundles of emotional benefits to the humans who love them. Lead researcher Allen R. McConnell, Ph.D., of Miami University in Ohio, summed up the findings: “Specifically, owners had greater self-esteem, were more physically fit, tended to be less lonely, were more conscientious, were more extroverted, tended to be less fearful and tended to be less preoccupied than non-owners.” In addition, pets crank up our production of the hormone oxytocin, which has all kinds of feel-good effects. It helps new moms bond with their infants, relieves pain, lowers blood pressure, and decreases levels of cortisol (a stress hormone). It’s also been found to help people feel more at ease in social settings and more trusting. Maura Rhodes is a freelance journalist based in New York.
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Gimme Shelter

Ellie Laks has rescued animals for as long as she remembers—ducks trapped in ice, turtles with broken shells, birds fallen out of their nests. When she was 7 years old, she told her parents that when she grew up she would have “a huge place full of animals, and I will show the world how beautiful they are.”Last resortSanta Clarita, California-based The Gentle Barn is the last resort for unwanted farm animals (there are 170 now), which it nurtures for the rest of their lives. This “healing property” of 15 acres is where animals are socialized. A smaller, 5.5- acre farm is where at-risk, sick or recovering kids come to help take care of animals, healing themselves in the process.Letting them trust again“If an animal is too old, too sick, too lame or too scared to be adoptable, the other rescues don’t take them in and the animal shelter puts them down. The Gentle Barn brings them here to let them walk again, run again, trust again, love again,” Ellie says.The Gentle Barn also hosts children who have experienced trauma, prison, drug addiction or illness—or are simply too “shut down” to communicate. They do simple chores like brushing a horse, feeding the chickens or taking a dog for a hike in the woods.Miracles every day“Watching these animals come in more dead than alive.…All of a sudden there is hope in their eyes and they are running around in joy again,” Ellie says. “I live for it. And it’s the same for the kids. They come in thinking there’s something wrong with them and, little by little, the animals fill them up and they realize they have value, and maybe they can live their dreams. I get to watch miracles every single day.”
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Girl hugging her puppy

Puppy Love

Walking with her dog Laurel along the frosted mountain trail as it curves through the Vermont woods, massage therapist Jody Higgs signals the dog to “come” and “wait.”Still a puppy at 10 months—but, at 90-something glorious pounds, close to her mature weight—Laurel lopes happily to Jody’s side, stands at the tips of her hiking boots and looks up expectantly. This is a training run, and Laurel knows it.“Down,” Jody says firmly. “Stay.”Laurel lies down and for 10 minutes the two quietly listen to the ravens overhead, the occasional crack of an old tree branch, and the rustle of frosted leaves as a small woodland creature moves around outside its burrow.“It’s almost like a standing meditation for me,” says Jody later as the three of us meet along a backcountry road near the trailhead. “Dogs intensify our connection to nature.” They notice everything, and draw our attention to the small sounds, earthy scents and transient creatures we might otherwise miss.As if to prove Jody’s words, Laurel, now on a lead, dances along the road’s edge, sniffing everything and looks for a tree stump on which she can gnaw— probably to test her new molars.“She also gets me out of bed in the morning,” adds Jody, as the dog pushes her curious nose under a juniper. “When I wake up, I’m sort of grumpy and pessimistic, and I don’t think clearly. Then Laurel and I go for a walk.”Jody shrugs, a little embarrassed, and offers a grin. “I don’t know what it is,” she adds, “but when I get back, it feels like I can deal with things. Things are clearer. And I’m in a better mood.”The 10-Minute FixClearly Laurel’s magic. But she does far more than just connect Jody to nature or get her up in the morning. As Rebecca Johnson, Ph.D., director of the University of Missouri’s Research Center for Human-Animal Interaction points out, researchers have discovered that the interaction between dogs and their humans triggers a series of chemical changes that increase our sense of wellbeing.In fact, several studies have revealed that within 10 minutes of gazing deeply into a dog’s eyes or petting a sweet little bundle of fur, there are neurochemical changes in the brain. “We get a burst of oxytocin, prolactin, dopamine and endorphins,” explains Rebecca, “which are all chemicals that help us feel happy and allow us to relax.”It’s actually something of a neurochemical free-for-all for both dog and human—and it makes your dog as happy as it does you. And it’s good for your health. In fact, some studies suggest that living with a dog reduces the symptoms and severity of clinical depression, while others have found that it boosts your immune system, reduces blood pressure and lowers your heart rate.The effect is so powerful that the chief cardiologist at one British hospital literally prescribes a dog for men who have just had a heart attack. And he’s found that the chances of a second heart attack in these men are cut by a whopping 400 percent.Dogs also help you maintain an active lifestyle and a healthy weight, adds Rebecca, who co-wrote the book Walk a Hound, Lose a Pound. Which is something Jody Higgs can verify. “I’m getting way more exercise than I was before I got Laurel,” says the trim Vermont woman. “I used to walk once a week, but now I walk for at least an hour every morning.”Building a Lifelong BondFor you and your dog to enjoy a life that brings each of you love, joy and a steady diet of happiness, you need to begin building a lifelong bond on the day that you bring your dog home. Here’s how to do it:Give daily belly rubs. If you have four feet and a furry undercarriage, nothing brings more pleasure than to roll over on your back and have your human gently rub your chest and belly. It’s an excellent way to start the day, and you feel nothing but love for the human who understands that important fact.Build trust. Meet your dog’s needs, says dog trainer Deb Helfrich, director of training and certification for Therapy Dogs of Vermont and founder of GoldStar Dog Training in Stowe and Fairfax. A dog that’s regularly fed, stroked, groomed, played with, and walked will learn to trust you.Learn to speak dog. Study your dog so you know how he or she shows fear, happiness, sadness, excitement, anxiety—the full range of emotions. If you’re not sure what you’re seeing, says Deb, check out doggonesafe.com and learn the signs. You can also sign up for an online course that helps you figure out appropriate responses, or you can get tips from a local trainer. Go to apdt.com for a listing of trainers in your area.Learn together. Obedience training, agility training, freestyle dog dancing, therapy dog training—whatever it is that the two of you learn together will, as you steadily work together, set the foundation for a lifelong relationship.Play together. Grab an old sock for tug-of-war, bounce a tennis ball off the house, hurl a Frisbee across the yard. Help your dog explore his interests with one-on-one attention. No puppy cousins or human brothers allowed. Just the two of you doing something that makes you both feel good.Never use physical punishment. Ever.Walk. Just as that walk around the block after dinner settles you down after a hectic day and lifts your mood, it does the same for your dog, says Rebecca. Shared together every day, it sets the tone for a feel-good relationship.Work through challenges together. When Rebecca adopted Madison, an English setter rescue, the dog came with a lot of little issues, plus an inclination toward aggression. Rebecca enrolled her in 16 weeks of private obedience work, which helped the dog become obedient but didn’t affect the aggression. But Rebecca kept trying. And after working with Madison through several approaches, she eventually found a trainer who was able to reach the dog. Madison became a different dog, and she found her place in the family. And the bond she and Rebecca built as those challenges were confronted is the foundation of a solid relationship today.ELLEN MICHAUD, Editor at Large for Live Happy magazine, is an award-winning writer who lives high in the mountains of Vermont. She has written for The New York Times, Washington Post, Better Homes and Gardens, Readers’ Digest, Ladies Home Journal and Prevention Magazine. Her book A Master Class: Sensational Recipes from the Chefs of the New England Culinary Institute and Ellen Michaudwas named one of the top ten cookbooks of the year by NPR.
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Dog Playing with Giraffe Dog Toy

What My Dog Taught Me About Joy

For most of my life, I have been a cat person. I have lived with little house-tigers that sharpened their claws on my couches, played midnight hockey with my hair ornaments and dragged my dirty laundry from the hamper to my pillow. I have even endured the terrifying stare of a cat that sees she's getting a second night of "Seafood Surprise" canned food for dinner. But then I married a man who was allergic to cats, and when my last beloved kitty, a dowager named Lady Macho, passed on, my husband suggested we get a dog. A dog! What a concept. I figured we'd think about it for a year or three. And then a friend told us about Jordie, a golden retriever puppy who needed a home. He'd been bred to be a show dog, she said, but when he was 6 months old, a routine X-ray revealed that he had a bit of hip dysplasia—and just like that, his show career was over and he needed a family. We had him for 13 years, five months, three weeks and then part of one day. And in that time, he showed me a lot about life. Whereas my feline companions had taught me about aloofness and how to be cool (qualities I admired but never could master), Jordie taught me The Six Major Laws of Dog Happiness, which work equally well for humans. 1. Live in the moment.Whether he was basking in the sun, letting his ears blow in the breeze or rolling in a mud puddle, Jordie was always giving himself a good time. Go for a car ride? A hike in the woods? Take a nap in the shade? Everything was the best idea ever and so exciting it was as though it had never happened before. He never felt guilty about it, never thought, Hmmm, I really should be doing my taxes. He just took the joy and thanked whatever the god of dogs brought his way. After watching him awhile, I finally realized that if I didn't try to interpret, explain and manage everything, if I stopped apologizing for not being productive every minute of life, I could sometimes almost approach that kinds of happiness myself, the happiness of just being. 2. Going a bit insane is wonderful.I used to pride myself on staying rational, stable and calm. Dogs don't buy any of that. At least once a day Jordie took off on what we called a "puppy blowout," when he would suddenly sit up at full alert, as if hearing a distant call from his wolf relatives or his home planet, and then erupt in a full-tilt charge through the house, running in circles through the dining room, kitchen and living room, dashing down the hall and through the bedrooms, leaping up on the beds and down again, then careening up and down the stairs. His ears flew behind him; his eyes were wild—a portrait of pure joy and sheer insanity. Did he care that he looked ridiculous, that we were definitely laughing at him and not with him? Did he fear losing control? Not once. I've learned to do some puppy blowouts myself, singing at the top of my lungs, dancing like I'm at a disco at closing time or simply getting up from my desk to run and scream for a bit. It's wonderful. 3. Just showing up is enough.This is probably one of the great laws of dog happiness and one of the reasons we love them. Dogs don't solve our problems and never offer one piece of advice. All they do is sit with us when we're emotional basket cases, and that's enough. One day when Jordie and I were out walking, we stopped to talk to a woman we didn't know. Usually Jordie, who was shy, stayed close to me, but this time, he went over and stood next to the woman, nudging her hand and then licking it. I apologized for his forwardness. "Oh, that's OK," she said, matter-of-factly. "I was just diagnosed with cancer last week, and dogs know how to be with people who are sick." Sure enough, I started to notice that whenever one of us wasn't feeling well, Jordie was right there next to our beds, just being present—a St. Bernard without the brandy. 4. Feel guilty... and move on.Dogs are masters of the quick guilt trip. They are so very sorry they ate all the appetizers, unrolled the toilet paper and soiled the floor. They are the picture of contrition—lowering their heads and tails, shuffling around, even whimpering about how horrified they are at their scandalous behavior. And then—presto! It's over! They're happy again, back to feeling completely unashamed and quite certain that you've forgiven them, too. It's not that dogs don't know trouble; it's just that they know something we forgot: Staying in trouble mode is boring, destructive and doesn't do anybody any good. Go for a puppy blowout or take a nap. Even just wagging your tail can make you feel better. 5. You can't always be perfect.I have an ex-husband who, every year at Christmas, wanted our children to mail him a white clam pizza from a certain famous pizza restaurant in our city. The children didn't drive, and the pizza place was too snobby to accept phone orders, so this meant that I had to spend an evening standing in a two-hour line (often in the rain or snow), order the pizza, wait for it to be made, then bring it home, pack it into plastic bags and then into a box, and overnight-mail it to him thousands of miles away—yearafter year. Once, after we'd bought the required pizza, before we could pack it up,Jordiecame running into my bedroom with that "Timmy's-in-the-well" look that all watchers of Lassie remember. We followed him to the living room, where it turned out there were slices of pizza strewn everywhere. Some had dog-sized teeth marks in them. Others were simply missing altogether.Jordiedashed around in circles, seemingly distraught at what he had done, before he forgave himself and went to lie down and digest his pizza dinner. It didn't take me long to figure out what to do. I threw away the obviously "used" slices and dusted off the onces that were resting on the couch and on the rug. And then, yes, I packed them up in plastic bags and sent them off the next morning in the mail. Oddly enough, I didn't even feel bad about it. Or if I did, likeJordie, I got over it quickly. And the bonus: I was never asked for another clam pizza. 6. Learn to let go.Make no mistake: Dogs love their possessions just the way humans do. Jordie often had a special stuffed animal friend, a treasure he guarded and protected like his own dear child. When he was in the throes of these relationships, he wouldn't even go for walks without his "lovey" coming along. And then, months later, for no reason I could discern, the relationships would simply be over. He would awaken one day, take a look at his beloved and heave a sigh that spoke volumes: Regret was in there, and sadness, but also a kind of acceptance of a difficult fact. It was time to say goodbye. Perhaps this was a mutual parting of the ways that they both acknowledge at some dog-to-polyester level. He would carry the stuffed animal outside and place it behind our shed, never to be visited again. And that was it. When he came back into the house, he was done, free from his responsibilities. It clearly hadn't been easy, but it was over. If it's not easy to say goodbye to a stuffed animal, it must be even heard to say goodbye to life. But that day came, too. At the end, he had a series of strokes that at first made it difficult for him to walk straight and then made it impossible for him to walk at all. We couldn't bear to give him up, yet we knew we had to. But how do you decide when? We spoke of almost nothing else for weeks. The vet said that when Jordie was no longer taking pleasure in life, that might be the time to have him put down. Finally I made the appointment, the last one of the evening. Jordie and I spent the afternoon together, and I sat with him while he dozed on the floor. I offered him all the forbidden treats he loved: chocolate candies and bites of ice cream. He obligingly took a few nibbles, but I sensed he was only doing this for me. The truth was that he was ready. He put his head next to my hand, the way he'd done with the lady who had cancer. Then he sighed, the way he had when he was about to say goodbye to a stuffed animal. I knew it was me he was comforting, not himself. He was ready to slip away, to ride that moment right out there—without fear, without panic, without regret. I recognized the same wordless happiness he'd always known. He licked my hand, took one more deep breath, and then he was quiet. We sattogether until it was time to go. Sandi Kahn Shelton is the author of three humor books about parenting and four novels, including The Stuff That Never Happened, which she wrote under the pen name of Maddie Dawson. She's at work on a fifth novel and is thinking about getting another dog. She lives in Connecticut.
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