I cannot fathom the number of hours I spend here in my book-lined study in front of my iMac – writing for you!
Under my desk, a simple pine Parsons table with no drawers, lies Riley, my five-and-a-half-year-old Dandie Dinmont Terrier. Always.
He makes all my work, which is also my passion, perfect. I love being here because he's always here with me, lying at my feet – a warm cuddly reminder of his loyalty and love for me.
Sometimes he gives my toes a bath with his affectionate licks. Other times, he sleeps curled up, contentedly. If I get up, he raises his head. If I leave the room, he follows me. He is always with me, body and soul, wherever I am, whatever I do. Steadfast. My constant companion. Joined, latched on, like a baby.
He loves me. Adores me. Not just because I feed him and groom him. He depends on me. And I adore him. I find holding him in my arms and stroking him the most relaxing activity in the world. We have the perfect bond.
Right? Wrong!
It's all chemistry. Neurochemistry. Oxytocin. The hormone of love.
I remember first reading about oxytocin and writing a story about it for The Toronto Sun in 1993, sparked by Pulitzer Prize-winning New York Times science writer Natalie Angier's November 2, 1993 story What Makes a Parent Put Up With It All?
Meg Daley Olmert read that same story – and it changed her life.
Back then, neuroscientists were on the threshold of their investigations into brain chemistry and, in this case, human parental-social bonding.
"Oxytocin is familiar to doctors as the hormone that spurs birth contractions and milk production in women... But lately scientists have realized that the power of the hormones extends far beyond physiology," Angier wrote.
"'Nature is conservative, and this a beautiful example of that... The same peptides that are important for things like uterine contradictions and feeding an infant are also important for monogamous social bonds and parental behaviour,'" Angier quoted National Institute of Mental Health (NIMI) neuroscientist, and now NIMI director Dr. Thomas Insel as saying.
Angier was reporting primarily on what scientists were beginning to discover about human-to-human bonding, through their studies of animals and in some cases, "measuring women's blood levels of oxytocin before and during pregnancy."
But she concluded then, that many of these findings were still highly speculative.
Meanwhile, Meg Daley Olmert, a native New Yorker, was always fascinated with animals. She was born with a natural way with them. She worked with veterinarians, and later with National Geographic Television, watching how people and wild animals interact. Endlessly fascinated.
In 1993, actress and conservationist Stephanie Powers hired her to develop a series on the history of animals and humans. Olmert's research led her to scientists who were studying the therapeutic healing effects of having people with heart disease and mental illnesses engage with animals.
She witnessed how young boys with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorders were calmer and more attentive when paired with or even just in the company of rabbits, turtles, gerbils and doves. She started asking questions and discovered what we all now know and almost take for granted.
That our interactions with animals can lower our heart rate and blood pressure.
She started asking why? How did this biologically happen?
No one knew. Olmert, it seems, was the first person to seriously ask those questions and pursue the answers.
That's when she read Angier's 1993 New York Times story.
Instead of following Angier's lead and tracing the scientists investigating human-to-human bonding, Olmert began her own personal odyssey – an investigation of the human-animal bond and the power of the hormone oxytocin in this immutable bond.
She contacted the same scientists Angier had interviewed, those working with animals who released oxytocin, but invariably got only so far, before hitting dead-ends.
In 1993, research into neurochemistry and human behaviour was booming. (Today, it's booming even louder.)
More and more questions were haunting Olmert.
Why did animals have this obvious calming effect on humans? How did it happen biologically? What was the history of this bond? How did humans first domesticate wild animals?
Oxytocin, it would seem, was the key, she surmised, but no one was studying this particular phenomenon scientifically.
It was years before she finally found the scientific hook she needed.
In 2003, in South Africa, two researchers had actually measured blood pressure levels and chemistry in 18 humans and dogs before, during and after warm, friendly interactions.
They found that oxytocin in both humans and dogs practically doubled. That meant that pets are one of the most powerful triggers of oxytocin, this "hormone of love" in humans.
I've known that since I was 17 in the Spring 1966 – though I certainly had no idea why. Could barely think clearly about almost anything. My mother had bought me my first dog, a two-year-old retired Yorkshire Terrier show dog. Derry was the sweetest, gentlest, kindest little fellow I've ever known. She felt, instinctively, that having the responsibility of caring for him would help me recover – heal me – after seven tumultuous, mind-numbing months in The Clarke Institute of Psychiatry after my first and by-far worst-ever psychotic episode.
Mother knew best.
Derry did. From then on, I was utterly smitten with dogs. I've had six, including Riley and his mischievous female companion, Lucy.
Their amazing predecessor, Murphy the Wonder Dog, a poodle/shih-tzu cross was a St. John's Ambulance Therapy Dog. For several years, we went to the adolescent and adult psychiatric wards at Sunnybrook Health Sciences Centre – no one else had the nerve – where I witnessed first-hand how he calmed agitated and anxious patients by simply rolling over on his back and luxuriating as they rubbed his tummy.
I cannot live without a dog in my life.
For those of us living with psychiatric diagnoses, the repercussions of emotional trauma and mental health issues, our pets have long been our most loyal living companions. Stroking them calms us more easily and effortlessly – more safely – than any psychotropic drug. While mental illnesses have a sorry history of socially marginalizing us, our pets are oblivious to this discrimination and prejudice. It doesn't compute with them.
All they want is to connect with us. Bond with us. To be touched and to touch us.
Animals, especially our pet dogs and cats, are often our significant others. They love us more divinely than any human possibly can. Without explanation. They understand us on a visceral level that cannot be matched by any psychiatrist or psychotherapist or even close relatives. Even, dare I say, a spouse. Without words. Babies. Like little children who never grow up. No wonder we anthropomorphize them.
Spell the word "dog" backwards and you have "god". The origin of the word "dog" remains one of the greatest etymological mysteries of the English language. I wonder why.
There's more to the animal-human bond than biology and neuroscience, I'm sure. Just as there's more to the human-human bond than biology and neuroscience. But, we are still on the threshold of our understanding of these complex, always unique relationships. Still learning. There's so much more to learn, with each new discovery.
Our world of knowledge is expanding exponentially and it's often overwhelming for me. But I'm curious. That's why I keep an open mind.
The healing power of dogs has been studied and celebrated, but Meg Daley Olmert's landmark book, Made for Each Other (The Biology of the Human-Animal Bond) published in February 2009 (Da Capo Press,$30) is the first to seriously examine the biology and neuroscience in the manifold bonds between animals and us.
She will be giving an exclusive lecture about her research findings on Saturday, June 6 from 4:30 p.m. to 6 p.m. at the Pawsway Pet Discovery Centre near Toronto's Harbourfront Centre on the shore of Lake Ontario, at 245 Queen's Quay West.
Tickets are $40 before June 5 and $45 at the door. Call (416) 360-PAWS (7297) to reserve. Seating is limited.
Signed, specially discounted copies of her book will be there.
And so will I.
P.S. Good News: Commenting is fixed. I long to hear from you. All is well with the world! :–)
Whenever I'm saddest (geez, is that even the right word?!?... my therapist and psychiatrist probably wouldn't agree), I take a trip down to the animal shelter and almost ALMOST cave in to the cats on display there. In the meantime, who could forget http://icanhascheezburger.com/ as a therapeutic aid?
Posted by: ©lark Kennedy | May 27, 2009 at 11:20 AM
Sandy,
I felt the same way about my dog Spike, a 24 pound black-terrier-chihuhua mix, we adopted 16 years ago from a rescue organization. As it turned out, he had none of the qualities I was seeking. I'd wanted a low-key dog (because I, too, write at home) who was good with children (my son was five), people, and other dogs.
Since Spike had been abused, he was skittish with people, he hated other dogs, and he never was low-key, but I fell in love with him from the moment I saw him.
When he died last July, I was just devastated by the loss, but I promised my husband we'd remain dog-free for a year. Within a few months, I secretly spent hours looking at dogs at Petfinder.com. Two weeks ago, we adopted Jack, another terrier-chihuahua mix who's got Spike's eyes.
While Jack can't replace Spike, I am so grateful he's a part of our lives. I feel blessed that I have such an affinity for dogs!
susan
Posted by: Wellness Writer | May 27, 2009 at 03:22 PM
Hi Susan,
I'm always thrilled to hear from you. You seem to be in good spirits and congratulations on Jack. How wonderful to have a new dog in your life. I'm sure you adore him just because, well, he's Jack. I wish you many happy and healthy years together.
You know, no dog can replace another dog. Just like no child can replace another child, or husband or wife, for that matter. All are unique. Special in their own ways.
Each dog is completely different, a product of his or her own experiences in life. Even within a breed.
I never thought I would survive after my 14-year-old Murphy got sick with lymphoma and I had to put him to sleep. I have his ashes in a tiny coffin in a cabinet next to my fireplace, in our den. There's a little plaque with his name "Murphy" on it. He's still with me and I have pictures of him here in my den and in our living room. I adored that dog and he was with me through some of my most difficult years – endstage kidney failure, dialysis, transplant recuperation.
When Riley came into my life three months after Murphy died, I fell madly in love with him. He's a completely different dog. A pure bred Dandie Dinmont Terrier. I know his mother and his father – Brechan and Dawson. I know his grandfather and knew his grandmother. And I'm very friendly with his parents' owners. They're like family to me. Extended family. Meshpuchah!
I also know Riley's brother, Healy. We all belong to the Dandie Dinmont Terrier Club of Canada and we meet during the year for events to help promote and preserve the breed, which is seriously endangered.
My bitch, Lucy, is very different because her father is a British Dandie, named Dazzle. But both my dogs get along well and keep each other company, when we're not home.
I'm so pleased you commented. I know so many people who have cats and/or dogs and they're lives have a wonderful rich dimension. Animals add so much to our lives. I haven't lived alone since 1989. Without a dog and/or my husband of almost nine years.
You're so right, Susan. We are so blessed.
Thank you so much for adding this lovely story to our discussion.
Hugs to you and to Jack! And your family. Happy healthy years to you all!
Fondly,
sln
Posted by: Sandy Naiman | May 27, 2009 at 07:37 PM
I don't think many people who have mental illnesses have pets. First, they have to live in apartments, and most do not allow them. Secondly, they probably cannot afford the pet costs.
It's a nice dream, but only that I'm afraid, for the majority of those who would benefit. How many with a mental illness even have family support, and how many have family support who have any money, or homes left after the devastation of dealing with lifelong cataclysmic behaviour? None I know. And none with mental illness whom I know could bear the sadness at the shelters (see the article on the Toronto shelter in recent news). There are too many losses in their lives and the lives of their families to send them to places where there are more.
Posted by: Ann | May 31, 2009 at 02:45 AM
Hi Ann,
Thank you for your comment.
A few thoughts.
First, it may appear that having a dog or a cat, especially a cat, is difficult for those of us with a diagnosis of a mental illness or a mental health issue. True.
However, I do know for a fact that many of us have cats. They are independent and inexpensive to feed, although vet bills are, as you correctly say, outlandishly expensive.
On the other hand, when you consider what you receive for your investment, the return far outweighs the cost. And, many apartments do allow cats. Dogs, not as much, but definitely a cat.
There are other lovely pets you can enjoy, although they do not afford exactly the same "petting potential," caring for another living being is very gratifying.
I have a friend who has had turtles for years. Three regular little pet store turtles. They are now huge because she has cared so meticulously for them. They're friendly and they play with her a bit, but I suspect too much handling isn't a great idea. I don't know. I have not had such good luck with turtles.
Many people have birds. Or beautiful fish. Birds are pettable and they can be taught to talk! Dogs and cats cannot do that. There is an initial investment, but I believe that caring for someone other than yourself can be very healing. You refocus your priorities. Suddenly, the world isn't just about you or me. It's about a little being that depends on us.
There may not be much oxytocin produced, though I suspect once you name a turtle, a fish, or a bird, and you become attached to that little being, there is some neurochemical and biochemical reaction.
In short, Ann, I love animals. I find fish and reptiles and birds fascinating. My little Dandies enrich my life beyond belief.
It doesn't have to be a dream. It can be a reality, if you want it to be.
At least, that's the way I see it.
Take good care and again, thank you so much for joining our conversation. You added an important and very real consideration. I'm sure many people will identify with what you say. I'm glad you said it.
Cheers,
sln
Posted by: Sandy Naiman | June 01, 2009 at 02:49 PM
Hi Sandy,
Love, love, love this post. I continue to learn new ways to manage my bipolar illness and have recently been thinking about the role my 3 dogs play in my wellness. I have a 6-year-old Golden Retriever (Clacker), 4-year-old black lab/rottie mix (JJ), and 2-year-old Great Dane (Shorty). Yes, Shorty. I don't know what we were thinking when we named our Dane in such a blatantly ironic and ridiculous way! We still talk about renaming him to Morty in order to reduce the odd looks we get at the dog park when Shorty's introduced...
The other day I wrote this little bit of insight I found within myself and I'm wondering if you have ever considered this:
As I learn more and more about my own moods (triggers, symptoms, etc) I realize more and more that my dogs are actually a personal mood barometer for me. If you believe in the school of thought that dogs understand the energy you exude way before they understand your words and behaviours, then it really makes a lot of sense. Often all I need to do is look at my dogs' behaviours to realize that I'm going down or up. If they are steering clear of me for example then I know something's up with my mood. If they are relaxed and comfortable in my presence then I'm likely in a good spot. It's quite remarkable. I do however carry around a substantial amount of guilt because there are times, too many that I care to remember, when my moods are so out of control that I can't contain the negative energy that always transpires. This most definitely has a pretty major negative impact on my 3 boys. At times all I wish for is that I could explain to them in words so that they'd understand. Unfortunately my boys won't "grow up" to finally understand and communicate that to me.
For me it's a fine balance between the therapy they provide me and the damage that I can and have most definitely done in the past. And I can't seem to reconcile the two.
-cravinglife
Posted by: cravinglife | June 02, 2009 at 09:43 AM
I love this post—thanks for printing it! I agree wholeheartedly with what you have to say. We've had dogs most of our married life (22 years), and even before my husband was diagnosed BP1, they have been an important part of keeping him calm. They seem to know instinctively how to help him when his moods are off (even our cat does a good job of sensing his moods and reacting to him). We recently lost our beloved Riley, a pointer-lab, to a car and we were devastated. Knowing how important it is to have a companion, we just adopted a lovable, but unruly, 5-month-old lab-pointer mix. We'll always have a dog at our house, too.
BTW: how do you fix a comments section? I've been having issues with mine.
Posted by: Sallyo | June 02, 2009 at 05:23 PM
Hi Sallyo,
Congratulations on your new little lab-pointer mix. I'm sure he/she will settle down. All puppies in my experience are a little unruly. I've found that socialization classes help a great deal. Have you considered that?
As for your commenting problems, I am very lucky here because The Toronto Star helped me with mine and they did so through communicating with our blog administrators. I suggest you try the same thing.
Chances are if you're having problems, others are having similar problems, too.
Best of luck with both your puppy and your technical issues. It's very frustrating and isolating to feel cut off from your readers, but I'm sure your administrators will be able to help you.
Take care and thank you so much for commenting here.
Cheers,
sln
Posted by: Sandy Naiman | June 03, 2009 at 04:56 AM
I'm allergic to anything furry and a fish... well blub blub didn't interest me that much. When I got the right medication for the bipolarity (type 2), I managed to get far more creative than before. I thought I had been before but it had really all been a rambling kind of chaos as all of my life seemed to be at that point. The medication really made me more organised and now I find solace in anything creative when I feel down. I watch tv-shows on dvd and crochet amigurumis or fold origami. I guess it is all about finding a way of soothing yourself. My problem has always been more depression and anxiety than hypomania/mania.
And I do alot of planting. Wherever you turn in my house there's a plant. As one of my little peculiarities I know the latin name of most...
Posted by: Jessika | June 07, 2009 at 08:02 AM
Hi Jessika,
Yesterday afternoon, I spent about two hours speaking with and listening to an enlightening, quite fascinating presentation by Meg Daley Olmert.
She said that caring for plants does indeed help people to produce oxytocin, so your love of your leafy friends is as beneficial for you as any animal might be for others.
She even went so far as to suggest, whimsically perhaps, because there's no science to support this yet, that when men buy vintage cars or any car or even a boat (which they name) and they wash it every week and "baby" it, that they, too, might be producing higher levels of oxytocin. WITH AN INANIMATE OBJECT. They feel connected to their cars and boats. Care for them and about them.
Oxytocin is a social bonding hormone that's produced in the mammalian brain. It acts on the amygdala – the emotional processing centre in the brain. Meg's research – 15 years of research – has proven that oxytocin acts on the amygdala to help calm and connect people to each other, mothers to their children, people with their pets – whomever or whatever those pets may be. It alleviates stress. Lowers blood pressure. Prevents heart attack. It's a healthy activity for the person who is doing the connecting. Without socializing and social connections, she explained, humans cannot survive.
Does the production of oxytocin in people affect the animal or plant with whom they're connecting, in the same way? Who knows? I know that years ago, I had two little Yorkshire Terriers. The eldest, who was only three years old, died suddenly, and the younger one was seriously affected. He stopped eating and seemed depressed. Our vet suggested that he may be dying of a broken heart and that we get another Yorkie, which we did. He perked up instantly and they both lived long and happy lives.
A broken hearted little dog? Cut off from his closest canine companion? You tell me. This is true.
Certainly, for you, finding the right medication is a wonderful tool, but by the act of "creating" little crocheted dolls or folding paper into little animals or exquisite patterns, you are definitely stimulating the production of this amazing hormone in your brain. You're continuing to help yourself heal and recover.
I suspect that knitting, sewing, quilting – think about the quilting bees our great grandmothers enjoyed and the resurgence of knitting groups today. Isn't this social bonding activity? Any creative handicraft surely helps to create oxytocin, I would suspect.
Right now, Meg is continuing her research. She is involved in a unique study with veterans of the Iraq war who are so severely suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder they need to be hospitalized.
Men also produce oxytocin, though less that pre-menopausal women. In a study at two veterans hospitals, including Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington, D.C., veterans who are so severely ill they can barely make eye contact are training little Labrador Retriever puppies to be "assistant dogs." The program is proving remarkably successful. These men who may have returned to the US suicidal, are responding dramatically to their little canine wards.
Whatever works for you. I'm sure you're connecting with those little dolls you create lovingly with your hands. And caring for your plants. They're living things and depend on you for their survival. They need you every bit as much as my dogs need me. Without you, they would surely shrivel up and die.
It sounds like you've found an ingenious solution to your allergy problem.
Yesterday, Meg was wearing a T-shirt that said, "Everybody has a story." This is a wonderful and inspiring story you've shared and I am so happy you did. So grateful.
Thank you, Jessika.
Take good care and be well.
sln
Posted by: Sandy Naiman | June 07, 2009 at 09:34 AM
I shall inform my plants of this :).
Actually, my plant interest began during one of my depressions. I needed something beautiful, and something I had never done before. I bought an orchid, followed by more. Now I have what, I guess they'd call, an eclectic mix, of plants. The plants got me out of bed, they needed watering, the flowers were pretty, created emotions at a level where there were none (or so it felt).
Thank you for providing the research info.
Posted by: Jessika | June 07, 2009 at 04:43 PM