The Reason I Choose Horses and Dogs Over People

I like people. I really do. In fact, some of my best friends are people. Most of my best friends are animals, however, and if I had to choose between spending time with people or spending time with animals, I’d choose animals. I simply find them easier, and quite often nicer, to be around.

Although I was late coming to the party in terms of pets, thanks to a career that afforded me

neither the time nor the freedom to keep animals, I have since made up for it and now count

four dogs and three horses among my most loyal companions, as well as seven stray cats that

have graciously chosen me to feed them.

As a result, over the past sixteen years, my home has been rough housed by a pack of assorted

rescue dogs that have peed on, ripped up and digested much of my furniture. The horses have

gifted me a couple of broken fingers and left me teetering on the edge of bankruptcy, and the

cats, well, they don’t even pretend to show gratitude. And yet, I can’t remember being more

content.

I say content because I have been happy in my previous life with humans. At times, I have been

ecstatically happy. But I never felt that wonderful calm and sense of grounding that comes with

being content, not until I gave my time to animals.

It may come as a little surprise, given my life of dust and dog hair, that I have lived alone for the

past ten years. Even so, not once have I felt lonely. Animals have also made me unexpectedly

healthy. I stopped binge drinking when I got my horses because I couldn’t ride with a hangover.

I do gym stuff and ballet in order to become a better equestrian. I stopped smoking when it

crossed my mind that I might die before my pets. And I adopted a plant-based diet because I

didn’t want to eat the very things that had given my life purpose. My ability to self-regulate also

escalated sharply and, according to Sarah Urwin, a counsellor specialising in animal-assisted

therapy, that’s one of the key takeaways from being around dogs and horses, and it’s all to do

with the autonomic nervous system.

In short, people need to be able to self-regulate; to understand and manage strong emotions

like frustration, excitement, anger and embarrassment. If we are lucky, we are helped in this endeavour via co-regulation, whereby our autonomic nervous system sensitively interacts with

another's in a way that facilitates greater emotional balance and physical health. For some of

us, that comes easier with animals.

“If we can't attach to our fellow humans easily, and if we don't find them helpful for regulation, but we can turn to an animal, attach to that animal and the animal helps us to self-regulate through co-regulation, what's not to like?” asks Sarah.

While some might contend that self-regulation comes with maturity, I have seen plenty of

adults act irrationally, and sometimes with unnecessary violence, when frustrated. I too have

been known to scream in fits of rage, but not so much these days.

In the great scheme of things, nothing is more important to me than security, health and

happiness. The rest are merely ‘things’; the baubles of life. In this respect, the horses especially

have broadened my horizons; it’s not always about me.

“Relationships with animals teach us about trust and they teach us outward focus,” explains

Sarah. “This is because animals live in the here and now. They don't live in yesterday and they don't live in tomorrow, and they help us to do the same, which is why it's more comfortable to be with them. It’s what the Buddhists say; living in the moment is where you’ll find

contentment.”

As well as transforming me into a zen master of self-regulation, which might also be the result

of spending more time away from people, I find myself wrapped in a blanket of familiarity in

the company of animals, something that might be explained by a primordial need – along with

not owning a telly.

In the 1980s, the American biologist Edward O. Wilson in his work Biophilia proposed that the

tendency of humans to affiliate with nature and other lifeforms has, in part, a genetic basis. He

found evidence for this from studies of biophobia (the fear of nature). When humans were

constantly vulnerable to predators, poisonous plants and animals, fear was a fundamental

connection with nature that enabled survival, and, as a result, humans needed to maintain a

close relationship with their environment. It is thought that our increased dependence on

technology has weakened that human drive to connect with nature, resulting in a decreased

appreciation for the diversity of lifeforms.

“Part of the attraction of being around animals is biological,” agrees Sarah. “We're kind of pre-programmed for it, biologically. It's in our DNA; an affinity for and an innate need to attend to.”

While heeding the call of our ancestors might be one reason for gravitating towards animals,

there is a distinctly modern theme prevalent in many of my conversations with like-minded

souls – people simply get on our nerves.

One of my friends – because I do have them – unashamedly admits she is Team Animal, citing a

growing intolerance of “bollocks” for preferring horses over people that she partly blames on the menopause.

Another friend recently told me that when her husband refused to have sex unless she got rid

of her seven cats, she knew her marriage was over. “When he tried to shag my friend, we kind

of worked through it,” she laughed. She was only half-joking.

Similarly – and though my closest friends and family continue to add their own individual colour

to my life – as I get older, I find myself less willing to navigate the vagaries, politics and mood

swings of people I’m not close to. Increasingly, I find people tiresome.

As another friend told me, “Animals don’t disappoint you in the way people do. There’s no

judgment, no hidden agenda, no sense of expectation. They give you unconditional loyalty;

friendship in its most pure form.”

There is perhaps no greater illustration of the non-judgmental quality of animal companionship

than in programmes established to rehabilitate prisoners. In the US, the TAILS programme,

which stands for Teaching Animals and Inmates Life Skills, focuses on pairing at-risk dogs with

institutionalised men. Jennifer Wesely, a professor of criminology at the University of North

Florida, said the positive behavioural effects of such initiatives include enhanced empathy,

emotional intelligence, communication, patience, self-control and trust.

A similar programme rolled out in UK prisons last summer saw prison officers take their own

dogs to work in a bid to defuse tensions and help inmates during the pandemic when visits

were temporarily suspended.

“Animals can't lie,” says Sarah. “They can't separate how they feel from how they act. So, in

terms of getting feedback, honest feedback, what people get from animals is genuine. They get

unconditional positive regard from animals. They get congruence from animals and, very often,

they get empathy.

“It’s quite a big deal, this idea of acceptance, especially among vulnerable groups who aren't

accepted easily by mainstream society or who have suffered individual trauma and therefore

have learned not to trust people.

“Animals don't project through verbal communication. They don't try and interpret what you're

saying. They take on board what's actually happening. So, again, there's a load of reasons

psychologically, why someone might trust an animal in a way that they perhaps might not trust

a human being.”

Although I admit to having many of-my-own-design faults, a criminal record and trust issues

aren’t among them. So, while accepting the biological and psychological roles at play in my

animal relationships, I am inclined to believe that main source of my contentment comes from

chemistry. Again, I am not unique in feeling this.

Leah teaches children with social, emotional and mental health needs. She is more than adept

at self-regulation. And for Leah, happiness is a horse called Darcey.

“Darcey makes me happy when I see her,” she says, “It doesn't matter if we’ve not had a good

lesson or a good day or if it's raining and we can't get out of the yard. Just seeing Darcey makes

me happy.”

Countless studies over the years have shown that being in the presence of animals can lower

blood pressure and heart rates, resulting in far less cortisol and adrenaline in our systems, but

modern research has also discovered a link with oxytocin levels.

“Oxytocin is the bonding attachment chemical, and that goes up when we attach to animals,”

explains Sarah. “At the same time, serotonin and dopamine levels have also been shown to

increase, which are the feel-good chemicals. And the most recent research centres around

prolactin and what they call phenylalanine, which is an anti-inflammatory.

“There is also the electromagnetic field. So, my standing heart rate is between 50 and 60, while

my horses have an average standing heart rate of 38 beats per minute; much lower than mine.

So, the minute I come into their field, it is quite likely that their presence, if we are all calm, will

bring my heart rate down as part of the mirroring process.

“Some people have that same kind of magic about them and, in a way, it is magic, but there are

things happening in the body that make that magic happen.”

As I get older, and accept that my life is unlikely to swerve back to the conventional path of

marriage and 2.4 children, I have come to understand that the secret of happiness is

contentment, and whether it’s wrapped up in biology, psychology, chemistry or magic, the

reason for my contentment is animals. I owe them much and I only hope my animals have

found a similar contentment with me.