Taking Care of Yourself: Food or Affection

Happy Thursday, Positive Animal Caregivers! ♡🐾

This week, I committed to volunteering at Humane Canada’s annual conference in Whistler — quite literally the other side of the country from where I am. Between flights, hotels, and everything in between, it will be an expensive journey. Still, I’m looking forward to a break from my usual routine and spending time with people who care about animals in the same way you do.

How about you? Have you had a chance to take a break lately?

For the next few minutes, take a breather. This time is yours — not the animals’, not the clients’. Just yours.

Animal caregiving is full of peaks and valleys. Last week, everyone who voted shared that you were feeling positive. Lisa, who is in the UK, captured it beautifully, “There’s something magical about a blue sky and a bit of sunshine. It’s amazing how even the smallest shift in the weather can lift our spirits and brighten the whole feel of a day. Brighter skies, in every sense, are always on their way 🌞”

I am glad that Lisa found some sunshine in the (often misty and rainy) UK. Let’s pause and check in —

Add a note if you want (I read them all)

Concerned pet owners, since the beginning of time (or at least since the invention of the food bowl), have asked some version of the same question: Do our pets love us, or do they merely tolerate us as a kind of food ATM? That debate has, mostly, been settled. Neuroscientist Gregory Berns — who famously trained his dog to sit still in an MRI machine — found that a familiar human’s scent triggers positive activity in the canine brain. Love, or something like it, seems to be there.

But what of a caregiver — the interim figure, the stand-in, the one who arrives with the keys and the instructions?

My friend returned this past Tuesday, marking the end of my two-week tenure as a cat sitter, and I found myself thinking about this more than I expected. On the first day, the cats hid from me, emerging only at the sound of their bowls clicking into place. Gradually, they opened up (one sooner than the other), until Mochi made his displeasure known the other night when I ignored his plea for a gentle stroke along his back.

“Did you only care for the food,” I asked them, a little sheepishly, before locking up for the last time, “or will you miss the affection I offered?”

I will, at least, miss theirs.

Once, I asked Ingrid that question, too. Ingrid — whom I lived with for three months while volunteering in a small Sri Lankan village — technically had an owner, but spent most of her time in our tiny housing complex, where seven of us acted as her de facto guardians. During the day, she would laze around in my living area, eyes half-closed, letting the sun settle on her face, occasionally nudging me toward a cuddle. In the evenings, she stationed herself by the stove, alert and focused, watching as I diced tomatoes and cucumbers for dinner. The cuddles didn’t hurt, but surely, I thought, a street dog places food above all else?

I found my answer this week.

I came across a study out of India that posed my question to stray dogs, asking them to choose between two people: one who had offered food for five straight days, the other who had offered pats. Unsurprisingly, the dogs overwhelmingly chose food on the first day. But from the second day onward, the results shifted — the dogs were split, showing no clear preference. As the researchers put it, free-roaming dogs “initially prefer food from unfamiliar humans but, over repeated interaction, value both food and petting rewards equally.”

I remain convinced that Ingrid would outsmart them all (including her caregivers). More than once, I caught her making her rounds through the complex, sniffing her way through the staggered dinner times. Come bedtime, she would install herself — very deliberately — in whichever apartment housed the softest mattress and the weakest resolve. The queen never concerned herself with choosing between food or affection.

Have you ever wondered how an animal you cared for felt about you? I’d love to hear.

The increase in oxytocin (the “love hormone”) observed in owners after just a few minutes of petting their dogs, talking to them, and making eye contact.

Add a note if you want (I read them all)

Mark your calendars for these upcoming opportunities to connect with others:

Here are the ways to recharge this week. Pick ONE small thing that makes you smile. You’ve earned it. 

Listen: Enjoy Susan’s pick, Billy Currington’s Like My Dog (though I’m not entirely sold on the line: “He never asks me ‘where ‘n the hell have you been?’”)

Watch: Relax with Snack Attack, a much-discussed animation short film about an unexpected connection between two people from different generations.

Write: Start a gratitude journal. This week’s prompt: My (Temporary) Pet that I Miss.

Appreciate: Set a five-minute timer and sit with a beautiful piece of art. This week’s artwork: Three Graces by Małgorzata Mirga-Tas.

Try: Do a short session of YouTube karaoke, by yourself or with a friend.

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Thanks for spending part of your day with me and the rest of the Positive Animal Caregivers Club. Take care of yourself this week. Remember - even superheroes need naps. 

– Philip