The Healing Company of Dogs

An ever-increasing number of controlled studies support what those of us who have owned and loved a dog have experienced: The company of a dog helps us maintain our mental and physical health.

We know experientially that dogs bring joy and laughter in good times, and comfort and company when we are lonely. They draw us outside to exercise, often encountering people we wouldn't otherwise meet, improving both our fitness and our social engagement.

• Studies have shown that spending time with dogs and petting them increases oxytocin levels, giving us a sense of calm and well-being. It also decreases levels of stress hormones like cortisol and can reduce high blood pressure.
• Individuals with acute, chronic, or developmental psychological problems can be assisted by dog companionship.
• Children with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) who interacted regularly with dogs and read to them improved their ability to focus and displayed fewer behavioral problems.
• University students who spent time with dogs decreased their levels of anxiety and depression to a significantly greater extent than the control group.
• The president of the American Psychiatric Association stated that he regularly recommends pet ownership to patients who are struggling with addictions, depression, and other psychiatric disorders. It is one of his most effective prescriptions.

A PTSD Case

I had the opportunity to witness the power of a dog’s presence in a case involving a retired firefighter with severe post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

In session, Bobby’s German Shepherd sat at his feet. When Bobby was relaxed, she lay down in front of him. But if he became even slightly agitated while interacting with me, her instinct and training alerted her that the floodgate of traumatic memory may spring open. The dog would jump up and report for duty.

Bobby reported this memory: He crawls across the floor, breathing from a tank, weighed down by many pounds of equipment. He is lost in thick smoke, looking for anyone awaiting rescue, calling out, “Are you dead?” Oddly, this is the question rescuers shout in these frenetic circumstances.

If there is an answer, now the firefighter must put himself in further peril, searching out the location of the voice. He knows that if he does not find this person quickly, the person will likely be silent the next time he asks.

This was one of the memories that would paralyze Bobby. At home, he might wake up from a psychotic, sweaty, terrifying nightmare or flashback, with only his wife and dog to reconnect him to the reality that he was safe.

If a flashback came in a counseling session, he would become tense and breathless as he relived sitting on the floor in dense smoke, his air running out, unable to locate people he’s sure are there, about to perish.

I would gently urge him to slow down, breathe, and remember that I was with him and he was safe. Meanwhile, the dog would come to full alert posture, making physical and eye contact with him. Bobby would come back to the here and now because of the dog's proximity and attention. He used other coping strategies, but in severe cases, he said the dog was his best resource.

One researcher who teaches mindfulness explains what I observed, stating, “The foundations of mindfulness include attention, intention, compassion, and awareness…All of those things are things that animals bring to the table. People kind of have to learn it; animals do this innately.”

First responders have more horrific images imprinted on their brains from just one month on the job than most of us experience in a lifetime. Bobby not only fought fires but was on a squad of rescue divers, pulling bodies out of submerged cars and rescuing people from their homes during hurricanes. His most traumatic experience was witnessing several of his firefighter brothers die in an uncontrollable warehouse blaze.

We don’t like to think about these things, and we don’t usually have to. But people like Bobby sign up to do dreadful, heartbreaking tasks no one would ever want to do.

After years of this, Bobby met all of the criteria for PTSD: avoidance, emotional dysregulation, physiological agitation, hypervigilance, flashbacks, nightmares, and perceptual anomalies. His symptoms varied in severity and frequency; he could not predict what torments a day might bring.

Early retirement did not bring relief; it complicated his recovery.

Like military service members, first responders experience an intensity in their daily activities on the job that is impossible for civilians to comprehend truly.

Because of this, two phenomena are in play. The first is that they have a conditioned response of elevated adrenaline release; many feel a need to experience similar levels of intensity in their lives outside the force to feel “normal.”

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder Essential Reads

Taming the Amygdala in PTSD

What Happens In the Brain During PTSD?

Secondly, these responders form a tight brotherhood—with some sisters too—rooted in an unconditional pledge to have each other’s backs, literally and figuratively, and never to leave a comrade behind. They are willing to lay down their lives for each other.

First responders I’ve met say they can’t talk much about their work at home. How could they subject their spouses or children to the images in their minds of burning buildings, dead bodies, floods, bomb sites, plane crashes, car accidents, earthquakes, and bloody crime scenes?

They don't want to inflict secondary trauma on their loved ones. And if they did, what could loved ones do to help? First responders, like combat veterans, often feel that only someone who has been there can truly get it.

But then there are dogs. Dogs sit calmly and listen and don’t judge or try to fix humans. They are acutely sensitive to changes in human physiology and behavior. They attend closely and provide their comforting presence, bringing a sense of calm and recentering that few other things can.

Bobby had lost his fellowship with colleagues, but he had gained fellowship with an animal that could be constantly at his side.

With the help of his highly trained support dog, his wife, his son, and me, he could learn to weather these moments of psychological crisis. We could work as a team to hold him back from oblivion day by day.

This story reminds us that dogs not only bring us joy and comfort but can also help put shattered souls back together. What a gift they are.