By Solana Kline, [four-legger and grateful packmate to Dr. Betty Sausage and Dr. Mickey Wiggles]
“You guys, seriously, COME ONNN!”
I attempt to cajole the furry duo to hurry the heck up on the trail for our morning walk. I tell them how cute they are, convince them how many sniffers are just ahead. But Betty and Mickey have decided they have smelled and seen all they need to on this trail. After all, we have walked it a few times and apparently they are over it.
They are putsing about 50 meters behind me, sitting down in the trail, picturesque amongst the fierce yellow of the Bird’s Foot Trefoil, meandering SO SLOWLY it is making me bazooka.
Here we are in the middle of Colorado Collegiate Peaks 14ers country, Springtime, the newborn wildflowers blasting through the decomposed granite soil, eager to meet the sun and bees and April showers. The Ponderosas are waking up, faint aroma of vanilla beginning to radiate off their orange skin. The mountains behind carry their snowpack still, even a fresh dusting last night, it looks like. Crispy white peaks just beaming in that early morning sun, contrasting heavy with the blue-bird skies behind.
A raven’s nest floats just above us, cradled in the Pondo’s arms, little baby squawkers insisting mama bring them some more snackies, RIGHT NOW.
All this, and Betts and Micks show no interest. Off-leash, US Forest Service land, all the acreage they can explore, perfect 60-degree temps, and they just can’t be bothered to come on the morning walk. What is going on??
I know what you’re thinking: they’re middle-aged now, maybe they’re tired?
That was my first thought also, and I may have suffered a minor panic attack that they didn’t feel well, or that they all of the sudden got too old for mountain adventures, THE HORROR! But then, I discover their trickery: they are bored of this same trail.
The second we get to the trail fork half a mile up, and we go a new direction, they bolt off down the trail and into the forest! And if we go to a new trailhead, they sprint ahead into oblivion. What little poopers! But as frustrating as it might be in the moment, I get it! I feel the same muted enthusiasm and lack of umph when we repeat trails often.
There’s actually a science to all of this, for humans and for doggos. Exploring new places is good for our brains, psyches, health, and soul. It wakes up our imaginations, our senses, our energy levels. A new adventure piques our presence, alerts us to being right here, right now, grounded in this moment because we are not routinized to it.
When we go about the same daily to-do’s, we do not build new neurons in our brains, leaving them stagnant and on autopilot. When we switch up our routines (even just brushing our teeth with the other hand or taking a new route to work), it triggers neuroplasticity: the process of our brains forming new neurons and neural pathways—being malleable and plastic. This actually releases dopamine in our brains.
Basically, when we aren’t doing/learning new, our brains are lazy: they choose the most efficient routes to fire the signals, even if those existing pathways are not the healthiest. For example, a person or dog might be stuck in a fight/flight response because their brain got used to firing that response in reaction to everyday life traumas.
This happens because every time a neural pathway is used, it becomes the go-to for the brain. What this ends up doing is putting us (and the dogs) on autopilot, victims of a pre-programmed learned reaction. And when we’re on autopilot, lost in routine or lost in thought, we don’t make new memories because we aren’t present or alert enough to do so.
But what’s incredible is that through neuroplasticity, the whole pack can learn new responses to old triggers. We can break out of autopilot by doing new things.
Human and hound brains may be a little too good at adapting to everyday routine, succumbing to its safety and mechanized malaise, its surety of distance or difficulty.
While some humans and dogs may feel they thrive in routines, they’re actually a source of controlled boredom, where a walk becomes a task or a chore instead of exploratory adventure. And this is unhealthy for our brains (and our soulshine, if you ask me).
This is where neuroplasticity comes in. Dogs and humans have extraordinary brains—brains that thrive on being engaged in new input, new problem solving, new joy, new challenges! And this can be done while still staying within the whole pack’s safety comfort and physical abilities.
Neuroplasticity is linked to improved learning and memory, cognitive function, mental health, adaptability, and brain health. It’s also central to systemic healing from inflammation, chronic illness, PTS, OCD, dementia, Parkinson’s, depression, and many other syndromes related to our brains and autonomic systems. And these are all true for our canine companions as well.
I’ve heard people say a dog was bad, that it chewed the house or dug up the yard, that it was aggressive or hyperactive. The question is, is the dog bad or are they bored?
Canines are wonderfully intelligent, they have big fat brains like us humans, brains that thrive on new experiences and new sniffs, brains that continue to grow and reform throughout our lives. And brains that get bored, brains that get depressed when they aren’t engaged and activated, just like us humans.
Scientists have debunked the old adage, “Old dogs can’t learn new tricks”, finding that throughout human and hound lives, our brains will continue to learn and grow as long as we continue to do new, to challenge them. And when we encourage daily neuroplasticity for the whole pack, we get to create new memories together, building all of those new neural pathways for our mental and physical health.
Yesterday, I promised the hounds a new hike. The joy emanating from each of us was palpable. Betts was in chipmunk heaven—launching up and over, under, across, and into the dead fallen firs who had toppled across the massive granite boulders. The afternoon sun flitted in and out across her silverback sausage hairs as the breeze dance with the fresh aspen leaves above.
Mr. Mickey galloped along the stream bank hot on the gamey musk of last night’s bear or deer or moose or beaver. My own senses were here, present instead of meandering off some old neural pathway not serving me right now. Dr. Betty Sausage flies past my right side on the trail, open-mouth booping my hand as she passes, Dr. Mickey Wiggles is already 25 yards ahead, looking back with that big boy smile.
They are so happy, the happiness you just feel radiating out of pups on a new adventure, the kind of happiness our human souls recognize because it means we are free and it means we are alive.
Until next time, happy trails and happy tails!
~ Solana, Betty, and Mickey ~
