How Do You Talk to Animals?

I’m the proud dog mom of a 3-and-a-half-year-old Great Dane named Rudy. He’s the sweetest, cutest, greatest boy in the whole world, but he struggles with separation anxiety. When his fear of abandonment gets activated, and he can tell I’m leaving, he clings to my side. When I get back from even just a brief trip to the store, he’ll run full-speed to greet me, refuse to let me leave his sight, and announce his disdain for my departure through barking. And not just cute, little “ruff ruff, I missed you” barking. I’m talking a volume and intensity that only a distressed Great Dane can achieve. Eventually, he’ll get the reassurance I’m not going anywhere, calm down, and go off to do his own thing.

In order to speed up the time it takes for him to go from agitated to relaxed, I’ll often stroke his head and tell him, “You’re safe, and you’re loved. You’re safe, and you’re loved.” As I pet him and repeat those words, I notice a visible shift in his body and behavior. His panting and pacing subside, he quiets down, and becomes less vigilant. Whether he has any real clue what I’m saying or not, my own demeanor and tone of voice seem to give him the validation he craves. He appears to remember that right here and right now all is well.

You know how some people start to resemble their beloved pets? I wonder if we’re also inclined to tell them what we most need to hear. Might these tender, heartfelt statements actually be hints about our own needs?

When I experience anxiety, my body goes into overdrive, my heart races, belly tightens, and worst-case-scenario thoughts bombard me. I feel insecure, unsteady, and alone. What I most need to remember in those moments is that I too am safe, and I am loved. When those worries creep in and my breathing shallows, I’ll place a sweaty palm over my pounding chest and remind myself, just as I do Rudy, “You are safe, and you are loved.” This kind gesture and loving affirmation provide a mindful pause from my mental and physical spiraling. In that moment, I can check in and notice if I’m operating with a stressed out nervous system and catastrophizing mind. Then I can calm down with some slow, deep belly breaths, and choose to respond instead of react.

So, I invite you to consider what you find yourself repeating to pets and how this information might provide insight into some personal desire. Do you need to hear that you’re good, know that you’re seen, or be soothed and told that everything’s okay? How can you offer yourself some of the lovingkindness you so freely give your four-legged friends? Initially it may feel uncomfortable to pet your own head or extend tender words to yourself, but remember self-compassion is a practice. And you too are an animal, deserving of love and care.