09/06/2025
Why Are We Like This? A Dog Trainer’s Ramble on Brains, Anxiety, and the Weirdness of Being Human
I’ve been thinking a lot lately (possibly too much.... typical human behaviour) about how strange we are as a species.
We do all this stuff that other animals on the planet don’t do.
We invent problems.
We create imaginary rules for success, then beat ourselves up for not following them.
We spend our days worrying what people think of us on tiny glass screens.
No spaniel would put up with that nonsense.
I mean, when was the last time your dog obsessed over whether they were “achieving enough” this week?
Dogs Don’t Overthink
Dogs live in the actual world: the one made of scent, movement, weather, and food.
We’ve built a world on top of that one, full of algorithms, likes, pressure, and performance.
It’s no wonder people feel anxious, overwhelmed, and disconnected.
Our brains evolved for small tribes, clear threats, and short-term survival, not for juggling five social platforms and pretending everything’s fine when it’s not.
We’re animals wearing costumes.
And sometimes the costume is uncomfortable.
When It All Breaks, Something In Me Relaxes
I’ll admit it, I like it when the systems collapse a bit.
When bad weather cancels plans.
When a power cut means no screens.
When the world slows down and we’re all just people again, not content creators or inbox managers.
During lockdown, once the panic wore off, I remember thinking: This is what it feels like when the pressure lifts.
No one expected you to be social. Or “on.” Or productive.
You could just… exist. Like a dog. Like a human, even.
Our Brains Are Still Caveman Software
Here’s the nerdy bit I love:
Our brains are running on ancient survival code.
It kept us alive, but now it gets scrambled by modern life.
We overthink because our brains are wired to predict danger.
We gossip because our ancestors had to track who could be trusted.
We compare ourselves because tribal rank meant life or death.
Now it just means Instagram anxiety.
Social media plays us like a fiddle, it rewards outrage, triggers fear, fuels judgment.
And we wonder why everyone feels snappy, sensitive, and not quite themselves.
The Dogs Know Better
My spaniels don’t care about any of that.
They care about whether the wind is right.
Whether that scent is rabbit or pheasant.
Whether the recall will get them chicken or a tennis ball.
They don’t perform.
They don’t pretend.
They just are.
And that’s the lesson, isn’t it?
We’re not broken. We’re just overloaded.
We’re clever animals in a noisy world, and we sometimes forget how to be.
So Here’s What I Try to Remember
Movement helps. Especially outside.
Joy counts, even if it’s not “productive.”
Kindness isn’t a weakness, it’s the antidote to all this noise.
Being quiet is a strength.
And you don’t have to prove your worth by always doing more.
If you needed a reminder today that it’s okay to unplug, breathe, and just exist like a muddy, sniffy, sun-drenched spaniel, this is it.
Now go outside.
Smell the flowers and the rain
Laugh at your dog.
And maybe forget the rules for a little while 🐾
