“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.