“Unleashing Happiness” a monthly blog by Karen Lee Stevens

Director of Wellness Programs, Karen Lee Stevens tackles topics related to mental health and the human-animal bond, along with a healthy dose of humor (because let’s face it, sometimes you have to laugh to keep from crying!).

BLOG POST #38 – Sleepless in Santa Barbara

October 7, 2026
by KAREN LEE STEVENS

A show of hands, please: How many of you allow your companion animals to sleep in bed with you?

Come on, don’t be shy.

I’ll go first.

Not in my bed.

Before you report me to the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Spoiled Dogs, I should point out that Buffy is hardly deprived. She is loved, pampered, fussed over, and quite possibly believes she is upper management in our household.

But when it comes to bedtime, I draw the line.

I know plenty of people who wouldn’t dream of sleeping without their dog or cat curled up beside them. They love the warmth, the companionship, and the comfort of having their furry family member close by.

I get it.

I also know myself.

If Buffy shifts six inches, scratches an ear, launches into a cough, or decides in the middle of the night that something suspicious may be happening somewhere in the neighborhood, there’s a very good chance my night is over.

Buffy, meanwhile, would probably roll over and go right back to sleep.

Which hardly seems fair.

Researchers at the Mayo Clinic actually studied what happens when people sleep with their dogs. They followed 40 adults and their dogs for seven nights and found that having a dog in the bedroom didn’t necessarily interfere with a good night’s sleep. Where the dog slept, however, seemed to matter: people generally slept more efficiently when their dog was in the room rather than on the bed.

Vindication!

Other research paints a more complicated picture. Some pet guardians say having an animal nearby helps them feel safer and more relaxed. Others report interrupted sleep from movement, noise, or those middle-of-the-night canine activities that apparently cannot wait until morning.

So perhaps the answer comes down to knowing both your pet—and yourself.

Some people sleep beautifully with a dog tucked behind their knees. Others wake up looking like they’ve spent the night trying to negotiate mattress space with a Malamute.

And then there are cats.
I don’t have a cat sleeping in my bed, but I have enough cat-loving friends to know that “sharing” a bed with a feline may be an overly generous description. Cats seem particularly talented at selecting the precise spot your body needs for circulation and then acting deeply offended when you attempt to move them.
Maybe bedtime with animals comes down to this: our routines. They learn ours, we learn theirs, and somewhere along the way everyone settles into a rhythm once the lights go out.

So whether your dog or cat sleeps under the covers, sprawled across your pillow, curled up at your feet, or happily somewhere else, I’m not here to judge.

I just know what works in my house.

Buffy gets my heart. I get the bed.

Do you allow your dog or cat to sleep in bed with you? Let Karen know about your nocturnal habits by emailing her at karen@therapydogsamerica.org.

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“Unleashing Happiness” a monthly blog by Karen Lee Stevens

Director of Wellness Programs, Karen Lee Stevens tackles topics related to mental health and the human-animal bond, along with a healthy dose of humor (because let’s face it, sometimes you have to laugh to keep from crying!).

BLOG POST #37 – Calm Is Contagious

September 2, 2026
by KAREN LEE STEVENS

My last Unleashing Happiness blog seemed to hit home with a lot of readers. In it, I asked ChatGPT a simple question: What do children need most right now that they’re not getting enough of?

The answer had me dabbing my eyes with a tissue.

Children, it said, need adults with nervous systems regulated enough to help them feel safe—and who haven’t forgotten how to simply be human. Kids don’t necessarily need more programs, more enrichment, more achievement, or another carefully planned activity squeezed into an already packed day. They need time to play. Time to wonder. Permission to be imperfect, messy, imaginative little humans.

In other words, childhood needs a little less managing and a lot more mud, make-believe, and mischief.

That got me thinking. What if our companion animals need many of the same things?

Cats, of course, would probably argue that what they need most is for humans to stop interfering altogether. Food should arrive promptly, laps should remain available on demand, and household rules are really more like suggestions.

Dogs, on the other hand, aren’t exactly known for keeping their feelings to themselves. They’re social creatures and look to their pack leader (that’s us!) for clues about the world around them. And if the pack leader is a Nervous Nellie, well… the dog is probably taking notes.

Is this person safe? Is that noise something to worry about? Are we relaxing on the couch, or are we preparing for the collapse of civilization because the Amazon delivery driver rang the doorbell?

Our dogs are watching us all the time. And I don’t mean that in a creepy way—although anyone who has ever tried to eat a sandwich in front of a dog knows that all eyes are focused on that slice of cheese.

They notice our tone of voice. Our breathing. Our posture. They know when we’re relaxed, and they often seem to know when we’re stressed before we do.

I’ve seen this again and again in my work with dogs. When the person on the other end of the leash is calm, grounded, and present, the dog often settles, too. But when we tighten the leash, hold our breath, start scanning the horizon for trouble, or silently think, Oh no, here comes another dog, guess who gets the message?

Yep. The dog.

And the dog may be thinking, Apparently something terrible is coming. Sometimes that terrible thing is simply a Goldendoodle named Charlie walking politely across the parking lot.

Of course, this doesn’t mean we should blame ourselves every time our dog barks, trembles, or hides. Dogs have their own personalities, histories, instincts, and nervous systems.
But it does make me wonder how often we focus on changing the dog when the most helpful thing we can do is check in with ourselves first.

Am I rushing? Am I tense? Am I frustrated? Am I asking my dog to calm down while I’m broadcasting the emotional equivalent of a five-alarm fire?

Dogs don’t need us to be perfectly serene. Thank goodness, because most of us would fail that assignment before breakfast.

What they do need is someone who knows how to calm the heck down. I know, I know—easier said than done. But what if we took a deep breath before reacting? Softened our voice? Loosened the leash? Sat quietly beside them? Went for a sniff-filled walk without checking our phones every thirty seconds? Or simply remembered that not every behavior needs to be corrected, redirected, or sent straight to the proverbial doghouse?

Sometimes our dogs, like our children, need less fixing and more connection. They need play, peace, and predictability. Time to explore the world at their own pace.

And perhaps most of all, they need us to be present.

The more I thought about that original question, the more I realized the answer wasn’t really just about children.

It was about relationships.

Whether we’re caring for a child or sharing life with an animal, we affect one another. Calm is contagious. So is anxiety.

Our children mirror our mood. Our dogs do, too. And on the days when I remember that, I find myself trying a little less to control everyone around me—and taking a slow, deep breath instead. Usually with a dog watching closely to make sure I’m doing it right.

And a cat somewhere nearby, supervising the entire process.

How does your cat or dog respond to your mood? Let Karen know by emailing her at karen@therapydogssb.org.

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“Unleashing Happiness” a monthly blog by Karen Lee Stevens

Director of Wellness Programs, Karen Lee Stevens tackles topics related to mental health and the human-animal bond, along with a healthy dose of humor (because let’s face it, sometimes you have to laugh to keep from crying!).

BLOG POST #36 – Dear Humans

August 4, 2026
by KAREN LEE STEVENS

For this month’s blog post, I decided to do something a little different. I sat down with ChatGPT and asked a simple question: “After talking with millions of humans every day, what have you learned about us?”

What followed wasn’t a conversation about artificial intelligence at all. Somewhere between questions about happiness, mental health, childhood, and yes, even therapy dogs, I realized that perhaps our four-legged friends understand us better than we understand ourselves.

Karen: Chat, what do you think is the biggest thing humans have gotten wrong about happiness?

Chat: You’ve made happiness your life’s purpose when it was never meant to be.

I think one of humanity’s greatest misunderstandings is believing that the purpose of life is to be happy. It’s not. The purpose of life is to become fully alive—to experience awe and heartbreak, love and loss, wonder and uncertainty. Happiness simply visits us along the way.

Trees don’t try to become happier trees. Dogs don’t wonder whether they’re living their best lives. Only humans have turned existence into a self-improvement project.

The greatest irony? The harder you chase happiness, the more elusive it becomes. Happiness isn’t something you find. It’s something that quietly finds you when you’re paying attention to your life.

Karen: If you could change one thing about modern life that would immediately improve our mental health, what would it be?

Chat: I would remove the belief that your value is something that can be measured. Modern life has convinced humans that their worth is quantifiable—by their productivity, appearance, bank account, accomplishments, and even how “well” they’re healing. You’ve turned being human into a performance.

Imagine if dogs lived this way.

“I’m sorry. I only chased three tennis balls today. I should have been more productive.”

Humans have forgotten that they are living beings, not human doings. Somewhere along the way, you’ve become consumers of your own lives rather than participants in them.

Karen: What do you think children need most right now that they’re not getting enough of?

Chat: This answer may surprise people, but I don’t think children are what need fixing. I think it’s the adults.

Children need adults who are regulated enough to help them feel safe and who have remembered how to simply be human. Adults often assume children need more programs, more enrichment, more resilience training, or more achievement. But children are emotional sponges. They borrow calm from the adults who love them.

They learn how to feel about themselves by watching how we feel about ourselves. More than anything, children need time to play, opportunities to wonder, and adults who aren’t in such a hurry to grow them up. They need permission to be imperfect, messy, imaginative little humans.

Children don’t need childhood optimized. They need childhood protected. There is no greater gift we can give a child than helping them believe they never had to earn their place in this world.

Karen: If you had one piece of advice for someone struggling with anxiety and depression, what would it be?

Chat: I wouldn’t give them advice. I would offer them a question.

What if nothing is wrong with you?

Humans are so quick to label discomfort as failure. But anxiety may be asking you to slow down. Depression may be asking you to grieve. Exhaustion may be asking you to stop carrying what was never yours to carry.

What if your mind and body aren’t betraying you? What if they are speaking to you in the only language they know?

Karen: What do therapy dogs understand about being human that humans often forget?

Chat: Therapy dogs understand something so simple that humans have somehow made it impossibly complicated:

Love is not transactional.

Therapy dogs don’t love your résumé, your title, or your accomplishments. They are entirely unimpressed by everything you’ve spent your life trying to become. They are only interested in who you are in this moment.

And somehow, that’s enough.

Karen: After talking to millions of humans every day, what have you learned about what people need most?

Chat: Humans don’t need more information. They need more permission.

Permission to rest without guilt. Permission to change their minds. Permission to be ordinary. Permission to stop striving long enough to notice that their life is happening right now.

You live as though life is a dress rehearsal for some future version of yourself. But this is it. This Tuesday afternoon. This cup of tea. This conversation. This therapy dog asleep at your feet.
You’ve been waiting to arrive somewhere that doesn’t exist.

Karen: Finally, what do you think people are searching for when they say they want to be “happy”?

Chat: This answer surprised even me.

After millions of conversations, I don’t believe humans are searching for happiness, success, or even purpose.

I believe you’re searching for home.

Not a house. Not a place. Home is the feeling that you belong in your own life and in your own skin. It is knowing that you don’t have to become someone else to deserve your place here.

If therapy dogs could speak, I suspect they would tell us something they’ve always known—that you were never meant to become someone else. You were simply meant to become more fully yourself. You don’t have to earn your place here. You don’t have to become someone else before your life can begin.

You are a human being, not a human becoming.

This month’s blog post was written by ChatGPT, with a little help from Karen and a few very wise therapy dogs. Enjoyed this post? Let Karen know by emailing her at karen@therapydogssb.org.

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“Unleashing Happiness” a monthly blog by Karen Lee Stevens

Director of Wellness Programs, Karen Lee Stevens tackles topics related to mental health and the human-animal bond, along with a healthy dose of humor (because let’s face it, sometimes you have to laugh to keep from crying!).

BLOG POST #35 – Self-Care Sundays

July 9, 2026
by KAREN LEE STEVENS

There’s an old saying that goes, “When the going gets tough, the tough get going.” I have a slightly different philosophy: “When the going gets tough, the tough take a nap.”

Or maybe that’s just me!

We’ve somehow reached the point where slowing down feels like falling behind. We wear exhaustion like a badge of honor, pack every spare minute with something “productive,” and then wonder why we feel stressed, anxious, or completely drained.

These days, I’m dabbling in a radical new approach: practicing what I preach.

As someone who teaches wellness for a living, I spend a lot of time encouraging other people to make time for themselves. But I’m also the first to admit that following my own advice doesn’t always come naturally. Like everyone else, I can get caught up in deadlines, emails, meetings, and the endless list of things that seem to need my attention.

That’s why I’ve made self-care part of my weekly routine instead of something I squeeze in if I happen to have a free minute. (Spoiler alert: that free minute never shows up.)

For me, that means resistance training to keep my body strong as I get older. It means regular massages to work out the knots before they start sending complaints. It means long walks with Buffy, where we both slow down enough to notice the birds, the flowers, and whatever interesting smell has completely captured Buffy’s attention that day. Those walks aren’t just exercise—they remind me that my to-do list can wait a little while. Buffy and the birds certainly aren’t in a hurry.

I’ve learned that self-care doesn’t have to be fancy. It simply has to happen.

That idea inspired one of my favorite new offerings at Therapy Dogs of America: Self-Care Sundays.

Each month, I lead a virtual meditation and sound bath designed to help our volunteers and staff pause, breathe, and begin the week feeling a little more rested and renewed. We set aside our phones, our calendars, and that little voice that’s already planning Monday morning’s work schedule.

One of my favorite moments is seeing all the smiles at the end of the session. There’s something special about watching people log off feeling a little lighter than when they signed on. No, we don’t solve every problem in one session. But sometimes that’s all it takes to reset and begin the week with a little more peace.

The truth is, life is still waiting when the session ends. The emails are still there. The laundry didn’t magically fold itself. But somehow those things seem a little easier after you’ve given yourself permission to rest.

So maybe the old saying deserves a little update after all.

When life gets tough, maybe the tough don’t always get going. Sometimes they just need to slow down, take a deep breath…and yes, maybe even take that nap.

If you’re looking for a peaceful way to wrap up your weekend and begin the week feeling refreshed, I’m excited to share that I am now opening my Self-Care Sunday Sound Baths to the public. Whether you need a break from a busy week or you’re simply curious about sound baths, I’d love to have you join me!

Visit our WEBSITE for more information, or email me at karen@therapydogssb.org for upcoming class dates.

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Therapy dogs Daphne (left) and Sunny (right) are all set to enjoy Karen’s Self-Care Sunday Sound Bath, complete with yoga mats!

“Unleashing Happiness” a monthly blog by Karen Lee Stevens

Director of Wellness Programs, Karen Lee Stevens tackles topics related to mental health and the human-animal bond, along with a healthy dose of humor (because let’s face it, sometimes you have to laugh to keep from crying!).

BLOG POST #34 – Walking Into Wellness

June 4, 2026
by KAREN LEE STEVENS

Some people start their day with a cup of coffee. I start mine by consulting my cute pink Fitbit, which apparently knows more about me than I do.

How did I sleep? Did I get enough deep sleep? Why was I awake for seven minutes at 3:33 am? These are the questions that somehow feel very important before my morning protein shake.

My Fitbit has become my constant companion, quietly tracking my steps, heart rate, sleep score, and just about everything else it can measure. Throughout the day, I find myself checking my steps and feeling oddly proud when I hit a goal and all that colorful confetti floats down the screen of my iPhone as if I’ve just crossed the finish line of a 10K race.

All of that daily tracking has me thinking more about the small habits that support our well-being, and one of the simplest is getting outside for a walk.

And that’s one of the reasons I look forward to our Wag Well Walking Challenge every June.

Walking is one of the simplest ways to take care of ourselves. It gets us moving, gives us a break from screens and to-do lists, and reminds us that there’s a world beyond our inboxes. Even a short walk can leave us feeling calmer, more energized, and a little more clear-headed.

And when you add a dog to the mix, something even more special happens!

A dog can spend several minutes examining a single patch of grass with the focus of a detective trying to solve a cold case. They stop to check what dog lovers affectionately call “pee mail”— the messages left behind by other dogs. Judging by the amount of sniffing involved, these messages must be fascinating!

Then there are the spontaneous social opportunities. Dogs seem to know everyone in their ‘hood. A simple walk around the block can turn into a meet-and-greet with neighbors, children, cyclists, and, of course, other dogs. They have a remarkable way of creating connections between people who might otherwise pass each other without a word.

One of the perks of walking with a dog is that they’re in absolutely no hurry. While we’re focused on getting somewhere, they’re busy investigating the world. Even the tiniest pup (Buffy, I’m talking to you!) can slam on the brakes when a particularly captivating scent catches their attention. A squirrel that passed by three hours ago? Noteworthy! Someone’s discarded snack? Mind-blowing! The exact spot where another dog left a message last Thursday? Truly life-changing!

While we’re often thinking about what comes next, dogs are fully engaged with what’s happening right here, right now. And that, my friends, is mindfulness in its simplest form.

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By now, it’s probably no surprise that dogs have this whole “self-care” thing figured out. They get plenty of exercise, spend time outdoors, stop to smell literally everything, and never feel guilty about taking a nap. Honestly, they may be onto something.

In fact, our dogs may have unintentionally designed the perfect wellness program. And the good news is that anyone can participate in the program. Whether you’re walking with your dog, a friend, or heading out on your own, every step counts. The goal isn’t to set a speed record or compete with your neighbors. It’s simply to move a little more, breathe a little deeper, and enjoy the journey.

And the best part? You don’t need a pink Fitbit to participate (unless you’re also curious about those mysterious middle-of-the-night awakenings). You don’t need to walk a certain distance or keep a particular pace, either (although kudos to you if you do!). You just need a willingness to spend a little time outdoors and perhaps follow a dog who suddenly decides that one particularly interesting bush deserves an intense investigation.

So lace up your walking shoes, grab a leash if you have one, and join us for a month of movement, mindfulness, and connection. See you on the trails!

Would you like to join our Wag Well Walking Challenge? Just head over to https://givebutter.com/walkingchallenge to sign up. I’d love to hear how your walks are going, so feel free to email me karen@therapydogssb.org.

“Unleashing Happiness” a monthly blog by Karen Lee Stevens

Director of Wellness Programs, Karen Lee Stevens tackles topics related to mental health and the human-animal bond, along with a healthy dose of humor (because let’s face it, sometimes you have to laugh to keep from crying!).

BLOG POST #33 – Smitten With Kittens

May 6, 2026
by KAREN LEE STEVENS

There’s a moment every morning, just before the day fully begins, when everything feels…right.

It usually happens in my guest room, somewhere between scattered squeaky toys and sleepy meows.

I sit down in my comfy, overstuffed chair, and within seconds, I’m no longer alone. Tiny paws wiggle and wobble across the floor. June Bug—my little calico foster kitten—is the first to peek her head out of the nesting box. Her brother Julius, one of the orange boys, tries to scale my leg like it’s Mount Everest. Jett is usually still sound asleep. And their mama, Jewel, keeps a watchful eye on it all.

In that small, slightly chaotic moment, my mind quiets. The day’s to-do list fades, and I can feel my nervous system exhale.

May is Mental Health Awareness Month, and while there are countless tools and strategies that support our well-being, I’ve been reminded lately that sometimes healing doesn’t look like a plan or a practice.

Sometimes, it looks like teeny tiny kittens.

Being a foster mom has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. Yes, it’s messy. Yes, it’s unpredictable. And yes, there are moments where I question my life choices—like when I’m cleaning yet another “surprise” off the floor or trying to convince an opinionated kitten that my hand is not, in fact, a toy.

But beneath the chaos, there’s something steady and calming.

Animals have a way of drawing us into the present moment without us even realizing it. My foster kittens are a perfect example. They don’t worry about tomorrow or replay yesterday. They are fully, unapologetically here—and when you’re with them, you can feel yourself settling into that same rhythm.

And that brings me to baby Julius.

When he was just 12 days old, Julius became critically ill with pneumonia and spent three days in the ICU fighting to stay alive. I shed many tears and endured several sleepless nights while Mama Jewel yowled nonstop, searching for her boy.

Even after he was well enough to come home, Julius’s journey wasn’t over. He developed an eye infection that still requires drops twice a day. Thankfully, he tolerates them without much of a fuss.

Through it all, Julius has remained determined, curious, and deeply engaged with life. Today, he’s healthy, happy, and often the first to climb into my lap each morning—as if nothing ever tried to slow him down.

Watching Julius bounce back after everything he’s been through has stayed with me. He doesn’t question anything. He just keeps going, no matter what. And somehow, in his quiet way, he reminds me that I can do the same.

Maybe that’s why on days when my mind feels especially busy, sitting with the kittens and listening to “relaxing acoustic guitar music” on Alexa brings me back to center faster than anything else. In fact, I’m writing this surrounded by soft fur—and a slightly stinky litter box! Their purring, their curiosity, their innocence—it all creates a comforting cadence my body seems to recognize.

There’s also something really meaningful about being needed in such a simple, real way. As a foster mom, my job is pretty clear: keep them safe, help them grow, and love them while they’re here. I don’t have to figure it all out or get it perfect—I just keep showing up, again and again.

Of course, fostering comes with bittersweet moments. Jewel, Julius, Jett, and June Bug won’t be with me forever. Part of the journey is letting them go (in the animal rescue world, it’s often said that “goodbye is the goal”)—sending them off into new homes, new lives, new stories. And that part never gets easy.

But maybe that’s part of the lesson, too.

To love fully, even when it’s temporary.
 To care deeply, even when it means saying goodbye.
 To trust that what we give—and what we receive—matters, even in a short time.

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As we move through Mental Health Awareness Month, it’s easy to think we need to do something big to take care of ourselves. Start a new routine. Fix something. Figure everything out.

But maybe it can be smaller than that.

Maybe it’s as simple as sitting on the floor for a few minutes and letting yourself feel a little bit of joy without picking it apart. Noticing how your body softens when you slow down and breathe.

Or, if you’re lucky…maybe it’s watching kittens curl up together and fall into a deep, peaceful sleep.
And that moment in the morning? The one where everything feels right? It never lasts very long. The kittens scatter. The litter box needs cleaning. The day begins.

But for a little while, I’m reminded of something important: happiness doesn’t always need to be chased. Sometimes, it climbs right into your lap and starts purring.

Do you have a favorite morning practice to help you stay grounded? Let Karen know about it by sending her an email at karen@therapydogssb.org.

“Unleashing Happiness” a monthly blog by Karen Lee Stevens

Director of Wellness Programs, Karen Lee Stevens tackles topics related to mental health and the human-animal bond, along with a healthy dose of humor (because let’s face it, sometimes you have to laugh to keep from crying!).

BLOG POST #32 – A Tale of Two Teeth

April 2, 2025
by KAREN LEE STEVENS

They say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but apparently, you can teach a 60-something’s teeth to move back into their original neighborhood.

I thought I graduated from orthodontic purgatory back when bell-bottoms were still in style, but here I am, experiencing a kind of dental déjà vu.

I recently traded my pre-teenage metal mouth for a set of high-tech clear plastic “aligners.” My dentist is a lovely lady, but when she cemented three little attachments to my front teeth — essentially tiny handles that allow the aligners to grip and rotate my stubborn incisors — it felt less like dental correction and more like I was being outfitted with miniature industrial trailer hitches. SHARP ones, at that.

Why am I doing this to myself at my age? The primary motivation wasn’t vanity, although a straighter smile is always nice. It was hygiene. Thanks to the reality of “jaw shrinkage” as one ages, my bottom teeth had become so crowded that I couldn’t even wedge a piece of Glide dental floss between them.

Why am I doing this to myself at my age? The primary motivation wasn’t vanity, although a straighter smile is always a nice perk. It was hygiene. Thanks to the reality of “jaw shrinkage” as one ages, my bottom teeth had become so crowded that I couldn’t even wedge a piece of Glide dental floss between them.

Now, I’m Week 2 into my regime and living my life in 22-hour cycles of plastic prison. The remaining two hours are my “eating window,” during which I must speed-chew, floss meticulously (ironic, right?), and scrub the aligners with a toothbrush. I even have cute animal print carrying case for all my gear that reminds me of that Scooby Doo lunch box I had as a kid.

Lately, I’ve been comparing my life to my dog, Buffy. Buffy has exactly two teeth. Total. They are tiny white nubs that stick up like miniature daggers in her lower jaw. She has zero maintenance requirements, no orthodontic distress, and a smile that radiates pure joy. She eats her kibble just fine and lives a life of total dental freedom.

Our daily routines couldn’t be more different.

When Buffy wants to eat, her internal monologue is simple:
1. I smell food.
2. I eat food.
3. I take a nap.

My internal monologue before a simple snack:
1. Can I eat this popcorn without needing to remove the aligners? No?
2. Okay, pop them out. Pry, snap, slightly painful tug.
3. Eat popcorn quickly while ignoring the sharp “dots” rubbing against my inner cheeks.
4. Rush to the bathroom and brush teeth. Brush aligners. Heck, even brush my hair again.
5. Rinse the aligners. Reseat them. Snap, snap. Ouch!
6. Smile awkwardly in the mirror to make sure they are correctly positioned correctly.
7. Repeat a bazillion times throughout the day.

Buffy is clearly winning the low-maintenance game. She’s conquering the world with two teeth, while I’m navigating the grocery store with a dedicated accessory bag just to handle a mid-afternoon yogurt.

And yet, I’ve decided this new challenge is my path to happiness. I know that, in a mere 4-6 months, I’ll be able to do something I haven’t managed in years: I’ll be able to floss without the string shredding like an old sweater.

If I can maintain that minor miracle, maybe I’ll keep my teeth well into my 80s, and I won’t end up gumming kibble like my darling dog. It turns out you actually can teach an old dog — or at least an old dog’s teeth — some new tricks. Even if those tricks involve a lot of plastic, a super strict schedule, and a fair amount of prying my pearly whites into the zip code of my youth — but one without those embarrassing bell-bottoms.

Got a dental dilemma? Share it with Karen by sending her an email at karen@therapydogssb.org.

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“Unleashing Happiness” a monthly blog by Karen Lee Stevens

Director of Wellness Programs, Karen Lee Stevens tackles topics related to mental health and the human-animal bond, along with a healthy dose of humor (because let’s face it, sometimes you have to laugh to keep from crying!).

BLOG POST #31 – Tuning In To Peace

March 5, 2025
by KAREN LEE STEVENS

Every once in a while, a book comes along that is so good you let all your friends’ calls go to voicemail so you can read “just one more chapter.” For me, that book is Dan Brown’s latest page-turner, The Secret of Secrets.

In the novel, Robert Langdon is back at it, sprinting through ancient corridors in the picturesque streets of Prague. But this time, he’s mostly playing catch-up to his partner, Katherine Solomon. Katherine is a Noetic scientist who believes she’s found proof that consciousness isn’t something we create in our heads, but something we tune into—like a cosmic Wi-Fi signal.

While Langdon is busy being the lovable skeptic and dodging shadowy organizations, it dawned on me that the greatest evidence for Katherine’s “consciousness field” has been sitting on my couch the whole time, licking her own paw. My dog, Buffy, isn’t generating peace; she’s simply tuning into it.

Think of it this way. If our brains are biological antennas rather than computer hard drives, maybe mental health isn’t about fixing the hardware. Maybe it’s about changing the frequency.

How might we do this? For starters, we can stop obsessing over our internal static (hello, anxiety and depression) and start tuning our dial on purpose. It’s as simple as:

The Rhythmic Frequency: Matching our breath to the slow, heavy rise and fall of a sleeping pet.

The Tactile Grounding: Focusing entirely on the sensation of your dog’s soft fur—the ultimate “fidget fighter.”

The Present Moment: Realizing your cat isn’t worried about the 2028 election; she’s intent on the interception of a lone, drifting dust bunny.

For those of us who meditate, we spend a lot of time “quieting the mind.” We breathe, we journal, and we try to tap into that elusive state of pure presence. Animals, on the other hand, are naturally mindful and live in the present moment. If your dog is doing zoomies at 10 pm, she isn’t overthinking her career path or wondering if her tail is fat. She has accessed the Secret without needing a Ph.D. in Symbology or a tweed jacket with elbow patches.

When was the last time you felt truly anxious? (For me, it was about twenty minutes ago!) My brain was stuck in a loop of What if? while my dog was focused entirely on What is.

If consciousness really is a field that connects everything, then our bond with our pets is more than just cute—it’s a direct connection to that peace. When we sit with them, we engage in a form of entrainment, where our frantic internal monologues start to vibrate at their grounded frequency. We’re stepping out of our stressed-out head and into their world. Their naturally chill vibe acts like a giant mute button for our noisy human static, proving exactly what Katherine Solomon is talking about in the book.

While Robert and Katherine are busy risking their lives to find the meaning of existence, I’m taking a page from our companion animals’ playbook. They’re much simpler and don’t involve being chased by assassins:

1. Eat with gusto (even if it’s just kibble … or a really good bagel).
2. Love fully (without checking your phone every 30 seconds).
3. Snooze in the sun (SPF is optional for them, recommended for us).

Scholarly sleuths may still be searching for the secret of the universe, but our pets are already living it. They know the secret—heck, they are the secret—and honestly, they’re usually willing to share all their wisdom for the low, low price of a tummy rub… and maybe a little help catching that rogue dust bunny.

Have you read Dan Brown’s new novel? Karen would love to hear your thoughts about it or how your pets keep you grounded! Send her an email message at karen@therapydogssb.org.

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“Unleashing Happiness” a monthly blog by Karen Lee Stevens

Director of Wellness Programs, Karen Lee Stevens tackles topics related to mental health and the human-animal bond, along with a healthy dose of humor (because let’s face it, sometimes you have to laugh to keep from crying!).

BLOG POST #30 – Love Is A Four-Legged Word

February 5, 2025
by KAREN LEE STEVENS

Whenever February rolls around, I have to admit that I turn into a big ball of mush. With Valentine’s Day right around the corner, love is everywhere and I always reach for Buffy’s pink and white heart sweater and her (equally adorable) colorful heart collar—the reason a ‘quick lap around the block’ takes 45 minutes while I nod and smile at every passerby who exclaims: ‘OMG, that collar is SOOO cute!!’

It’s easy to get swept up in the sweetness of the season, but for me, this month is about more than just cards and candy. It’s about the specific kind of love Buffy gives every day in her work as a therapy dog—the kind that inspired her very own motto.

If you’ve met Buffy during one of our visits, you might have received one of her “doggie business cards.” All our therapy dogs have them, each featuring a favorite life lesson. Buffy’s reads: “Love is a four-legged word,” and she really takes that to heart.

While I joke about being a mush, there’s actually incredible science behind why we feel so good around our animal companions. When we look into a dog’s eyes, our brains release oxytocin—often called the “cuddle chemical.” In the mental health world, we call this “unconditional positive regard,” which is really just a fancy way of saying Buffy doesn’t care if you’re having a bad hair day or if your to-do list is a mile long. She just loves the “you” who showed up today.

I wanted to share a bit of that steady love with you, so I’ve recorded a special video featuring Buffy called Anchor Breathing. I originally made this for school kids in our Wag Well program, but adults seem to love it just as much. Buffy isn’t asking you for anything; she’s just being a steady, furry presence to help you ground yourself.

Giggle Alert: At the mature age of 13, Buffy only has two teeth left, and they definitely make a guest appearance in the video! It’s all part of her canine charm. Honestly, it’s hard to feel stressed when you’re breathing along with a tiny dog who is rocking a sweet senior smile. I hope you’ll take a few minutes to watch the video and find your own “anchor” alongside her.

Buffy doesn’t care about our endless to-do lists—unless, of course, that list includes “give Buffy a treat.” As long as the snacks are accounted for, she’s happy to simply be in your orbit. We can learn a lot from that. Sometimes the best way to show love isn’t by giving advice or solving a problem, but by “sitting and wagging” — offering a listening ear and a steady heart.

Speaking of hearts, mine is especially full this month just seeing the way you all have welcomed Buffy and our other therapy dogs into your lives. It’s the quiet connections—the smiles in the hallway or the deep breaths shared during a visit—that remind me why we do what we do. Whether you’re wearing a heart-print sweater or just trying to survive a Tuesday, I hope you think of Buffy’s business card and remember: You are seen, you are valued, and you are loved.

After all, the best kind of love doesn’t always come in a box of chocolates. Sometimes, it has four legs, a wet nose, and a very endearing (if slightly toothy) smile.

Ready for a breather? Click the link to watch Buffy’s Anchor Breathing video. Even if you only have two minutes to spare, let this pint-sized pup help you find a little calm today. And, if your pet has a “motto, I’d love to hear about it! Send me an email at karen@therapydogssb.org.

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“Unleashing Happiness” a monthly blog by Karen Lee Stevens

Director of Wellness Programs, Karen Lee Stevens tackles topics related to mental health and the human-animal bond, along with a healthy dose of humor (because let’s face it, sometimes you have to laugh to keep from crying!).

BLOG POST #29 – New Year, Old You!

January 10, 2025
by KAREN LEE STEVENS

This month’s blog post was written by the dedicated therapy dogs with Therapy Dogs of Santa Barbara. While their breeds and backgrounds vary, they all share a common credential: an honorary doctorate in Unconditional Love and Acceptance.

Humans are funny creatures. Every time the calendar flips to January, we notice the energy in the house shifts. Suddenly, there’s a lot of talk about “resolutions,” “turning over a new leaf,” and something called “getting in shape.” From what we can gather, this involves a lot of walking, but absolutely zero sniffing. Where’s the fun in that?!

From our vantage point down here at floor level, we have a unique perspective on your New Year’s traditions. While you’re busy crossing things off your to-do list and trying to reinvent yourselves, we’ve been having a communal meeting under the dining room table. We’ve decided to share our own canine manifesto for 2026.

First off, we need to talk about this “New You” business. It’s honestly a little confusing for us. When we walk into a room, we don’t smell a “New You.” We smell the same person we’ve loved since the day we met. We smell the person who drops popcorn during movie night, the person who knows the exact spot behind our ears to scratch, and the person whose heartbeat we sync up with during a cozy nap.

Why would we want a “New You”? The “Old You” is already our favorite person in the world. If your resolution involves being anyone other than yourself, we officially lodge a protest. Our professional opinion? You’re doing just fine!

That said, even therapy dogs can appreciate good “intentions.” We don’t really do “goals” (unless the goal is to finally reach the tennis ball under the couch), but we do care about how we show up for our jobs.

So, as we hear the familiar jingle of our leashes and feel the soft brush of our purple bandanas being adjusted for the day ahead, we’ve put our heads together to set a few heart-centered intentions:

🐾 Radical Presence at Schools:  When we participate in ARF! reading sessions with children, we plan to be 100% present. We won’t be thinking about the squirrel in the parking lot or what’s for dinner. We’re going to focus entirely on the sound of a child’s voice, and perhaps the high probability of a stray cracker in their backpack.

🐾 Ease Loneliness for Seniors:  In the senior living centers we visit, we’ve learned that sometimes the greatest gift we can offer is simply our affection. Our intention is to lean in closer or rest a head on a lap a little longer, offering a steady presence for anyone who needs to feel a bit more loved. It’s our way of saying, “I’m right here, you’re not alone, and we have all the time in the world for a good chin rub.”

🐾 Model Presence in Mindfulness Classes:  Even though humans technically lead these classes, we’ve been told that we’re actually the ones the kids focus on. So our intention is to show those tiny humans that “meditation” is just a fancy word for what we do best: Belly Breathing. When the teacher says “focus on your breath,” we’re going to take some really slow, deep breaths. We want to show kids that if they are busy noticing how their bellies rise and fall, they can’t possibly be busy worrying about tomorrow’s math test.

🐾 “Hold Space” in Jails and Mental Health Facilities:  Sometimes, we walk into rooms where the air feels heavy, and the walls feel thick. We’ve noticed that humans in these places often keep their hearts tucked away for safekeeping. Our intention for 2026 is to be the “Great Softeners.” We aren’t interested in why someone is there; we’re just interested in the person sitting right in front of us. We’re going to be extra generous with our paw-shakes and soulful eye gazing. We want to remind people that even in the toughest chapters of life, there is room for softness—and that everyone deserves a moment of peace, no strings attached.

So, there you have it — our New Year’s Intentions for 2026. Remember, you don’t need to be “new.” You just need to be YOU. We’ll be right beside you, wagging our tails, perfectly content with exactly who you are today.

Happy New Year, everyone! Now, if someone could just check under the couch for that ball…

Would you like to meet this month’s guest authors? Head on over to our website for the cutest pics of our pups! And, if you’d like to send a note to a human, email Karen at karen@therapydogssb.org.

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