She's already almost 15 years with us. The number of times she'd be literally able to express herself by looking straight in the eyes are uncountable. Sometimes it'd take some time before I get it, but most of it felt all so clear. Everyone who has ever met her knows, it's her, not me. She is just one expressive Lab. I can write long, and probably at some point in the future will do it, but for now I'd share only a thought or two on one of the so many lessons she's taught me graciously and with persistence.
“In the softness of their gaze, dogs hold a strength that endures: an unshakable belief that tomorrow will always be better.” – Unknown That could have been written for her. A year or so ago, we were coming from a trip. Once the car stopped she was ready to jump out, comletely determined to overcome my supporting embrace and jumping directly on the asphalt. There came a sound from her mouth I've never heard before, after that she ran behind her favourite bush in the backyard and did not want to join us for the rest of the evening. Even the food wasn't attractive enough. The night went with her sleeping in a weird position and me - next to her on the floor. Next morning - a quiet, unparticipating girl, though with apettite. Called her doctor, got the instruction for a pain relief drug if she isn't moving in the next few hours. I finished with my online meetings next to her and decided to go and pick the drug from the pharmacy, just in case. When I came home 15 min later, she was at the door, waving her tail, all ready for the next walk. As if nothing happened.
I'm aware, that dogs embody a unique blend of resilience, adaptability, and unwavering optimism. But where does it come from?
From a scientific perspective, their resilience is deeply rooted in their social and biological nature. Dogs, like humans, are social creatures who thrive in cooperative environments. Their ability to form strong attachments, with their pack (in Auri's case us, humans), helps them adapt quickly to new situations and recover from adversity.
Neuroscience suggests that dogs have highly developed emotional centers in their brains, particularly in regions like the amygdala and prefrontal cortex, which are involved in processing emotions and decision-making. This emotional intelligence allows them to remain flexible in challenging situations, adjusting their behavior based on the cues they pick up from their environment and their human companions.
Their unwavering optimism can be partly attributed to the oxytocin response—a hormone that enhances bonding and reduces stress. When dogs engage with people they trust, their oxytocin levels rise, creating a positive feedback loop of affection, safety, and hopefulness.
There's much to learn from our four-legged family members. In a sense, dogs live in the “eternal now”—they don’t dwell on the past or future like we do (or so we think?). This ability to stay present, combined with their emotional wiring, might just be the key to their boundless resilience and joy.
I believe that in observing dogs, we can find a blueprint for resilience in its purest form. Their ability to live in the moment, trust unconditionally, and adapt to change could be our reminder, that resilience is less about resistance and more about flexibility. Like dogs, we could perhaps learn to face life’s unpredictability by forming strong connections, practicing presence, and looking for joy in everyday small moments. If we consider that neurologically, we share the same emotional circuits — just as dogs release oxytocin through connection and trust, we too can foster resilience by nurturing relationships and focusing on the "here and now". After all, maybe the best teachers of resilience are right at our feet.
"Be the person your dog thinks you are."
– J.W. Stephens
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