Why I got a dog
For the better part of a decade, my husband wanted a dog. In 2020, we almost became one of those pandemic dog families (breeder selected, puppy identified, check written)... but I got cold feet and resorted to my list of reasons why it was a bad idea.
We didn’t have a backyard. It would be expensive. Our demanding full-time jobs meant we wouldn’t have enough time. It would make a mess of our home.
One day my husband sent me a podcast by my favorite podcaster, Dr. Laurie Santos, interviewing Elias Friedman, aka The Dogist. The episode blended stories and science about why dogs make people feel happier and more connected. (Smooth move, husband.)
If you’re curious, here’s the TL;DR from research on dogs and well-being:
Dogs boost physical activity. Walking and playing get us moving, outside, and exposed to light, all linked to better mood and health.
Dogs boost social connection. Dogs make it easier to talk to strangers and feel part of a community.
Dogs offer emotional support. Their consistent, non-judgmental affection helps reduce stress, anxiety, and even physical pain in some studies.
Dogs encourage presence and fun. Dogs live in the moment. Their playful, curious behavior reminds us to enjoy life and be present.
But this actually isn’t a blog about why you should get a dog. It’s about why we should be open to life experiences that bring novelty and depth, not just routine and comfort.
I realized I had been optimizing my life for the latter: stability, predictability, minimal disruption. But true well-being lives more in the former, and that’s why I finally said to my husband, “Ok, let’s get a dog.”
Because there's a concept in positive psychology called psychological richness. It suggests that well-being isn’t just about feeling good (happiness) or doing good (meaning), but about experiencing a wide range of thoughts and emotions, even the uncomfortable ones.
Psychologically rich experiences include novelty, challenge, and moments that stretch us. For me, getting a dog checked those boxes. Some others might look like:
Studying, traveling, or living abroad
Taking a new job, making a career change, or returning to school, maybe later in life
Having conversations with people who see the world differently
Trying new foods, watching new shows, listening to new music, or starting new hobbies
Becoming a parent or caregiver, or choosing not to
Learning a new language or instrument
When I look back at my original “dog, bad idea” list, I realize my reasons all pointed to the same underlying goal, which wasn’t necessarily to not get a dog but was to minimize friction.
So why did we adopt Tully? Because I’m finally catching up to my husband and learning that a life optimized for ease often misses what matters most: novelty, connection, growth. And sometimes that psychological richness comes in the form of four legs and a lot of fur.
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