Where I Explain Our Worsening Mental Health to My Friends’ Dog

Where I Explain Our Worsening Mental Health to My Friends’ Dog

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Mentions: a ridiculously silky Labrador; finches; poop; rabbits; dirty puddles; the degradation of our beautiful planet; a ravenous beast that eats up health and vitality, etc.

My lovely friend asked me to take her lovely dog for a walk, as she was very, very, very busy at her not-so-lovely-job ("but it pays the bills").

Bella (an impossibly silky Labrador) was excited as I unhooked her lead. But I thought I detected something else in her enormous brown eyes. Confusion? Sadness? The hollow echo of unanswered doggy questions in a human world?

Crucial Doggy questions

Why wasn't her favourite human —my friend—coming? Why was her human out all the time? Why did her human not walk her much anymore? Why did her human seem quite sad a lot of the time?

"I'll explain as best I can" I reassured Bella as we headed out into the crisp, bright morning.

After a period of unbridled sniffing, spraying, pooping, jumping, and generally bounding around with glee, Bella's searching eyes met mine and seemed to ask me to start my tale. What was going on with her human?

What dogs, humans and planets need in life

"Well you see, Bella." I began. "There are animals like you. You are loyal, loving and joyous. If you are fed, watered and allowed ample time for both rest and play you are mostly happy, right?"

"You live on this wondrous planet, which is another living system, and you share the planet with many millions of species of other living beings with similar, simple needs."

"Then there are human animals like me. We have very similar needs for food, play, rest and love. Humans should take care of each other, and all the other beings, and the planet. Doing so involves some simple but fundamental principles: listening, patience, care, awareness, balance, and a deep respect for the systems that sustain all life."

Dogs: "This is all rather obvious, isn't it?"

I sense I am losing Bella's attention, as all of this is very obvious to a dog.

"Now I know I haven't explained why your human is working all the time and not taking you for walks, but bear with me. I need to tell you about another animal. Not a dog like you or a human like me. A different kind of animal. A beast. But it's not a beast of the earth, like you and I. It's made by humans. This beast is not biologically alive, but it is still a dynamic, complex system like me and you, Bella, with a metabolism of its own."

"But unlike you, Bella, this beast is not a loyal and loving companion. This beast I’m talking about is different to all of the web of life in so many ways. The needs of this beast are completely and utterly incompatible with the needs of the rest of us. This beast has an insatiable hunger because its very survival depends on its expansion. It needs to keep consuming more and more because it's health is measured only by how much it has grown."

"This is very strange, Bella. There is nothing else like this in nature. In nature, things grow to a certain point, then they stabilise, adapt, mature and and integrate. Health in nature is not measured by growth or size. Health is expressed through balance, resilience, and interconnectedness."

I look down to see if Bella is with me so far and I see her nuzzling around in a patch of dandelions, which I think is her way of processing all of this news.

The beast that eats vitality for breakfast

I carry on. "The beast does not care about meeting people's needs, which some say was the simple, original purpose of the beast at one point...a point now lost in time. The beast cares only about growing bigger and bigger."

"Because of the ravenous appetite of the beast, and because it needs to keep growing, the beast needs us humans to ignore basic, life-sustaining principles in favour of speed, expansion and consumption."

"This means the earth gets ripped up, mined, shredded and gouged so that we can make stuff and sell it. Patience and balance have no place in this system. Patience and balance are inconvenient hindrances to consumption and accumulation. There’s no room for ecosystems to recover or for people to catch their breath—profit depends on this frantic, growing surge of extraction and consumption.

"The needs of the beast mean people must buy more and more, whether they need to or not. This is agitated by manipulative marketing, planned obsolescence, and a culture of disposability. The appetite of the beast is in direct opposition to the principles of nature, which rely on slow cycles, interdependence, and sustainability to maintain balance. The beast doesn’t care about our need for rest, for integration, for meaning, or connection"

"Nature, our world, life itself unfolds in natural cycles – slow, regenerating, intricate webs of support. But the beast can’t afford to wait. It needs more — right now"

Bella is so shocked at what I am sharing with her that she seems to self-sooth by sniffing the bum of a passing fuzzy-haired terrier.

I continue with some examples for Bella.

"Take water: essential for all living things, and yet we pollute it, waste it, sell it off, and charge ridiculous rates. And food. Food is shipped across continents to maximise profit margins while local farms collapse under impossible costs. Our most basic human needs – nourishment, shelter, connection – have been monetised, prioritising profit over people, turning essentials into commodities to be bought or sold."

The tussle between hungry beasts and tired, ravaged humans

"You might be wondering what this beast has to do with your human, Bella"

Bella agrees with me by barking at a cluster of finches in a bush.

"Well, the beast’s endless hunger forces companies like the one your human works for to constantly do more—make more, sell more, grow more—just to survive. This means workers, like your mum, are pushed harder every year: longer hours, higher targets, fewer resources, and constant pressure. This can make humans feel very rubbish indeed. When we humans start to feel overwhelmed, sick, or burned out, the beast doesn’t offer rest or connection—things that might truly help.

"Bella, here's the really important bit I want you to know"

Bella laps from a dirty puddle, eagerly waiting, I assume, for my main point.

The needs of the beast are directly and entirely incompatible with the principles of life and health itself

"The beast can’t offer stressed and burned out humans the rest and care and balance they need... because rest, balance, and care slow everything down—and the beast’s survival depends on speed and constant growth. If people were given the time and space and quiet to truly recover, and to feel well, to feel healthy and vibrant ....well...they might stop buying things they don’t need, stop working at breakneck speed, and start questioning the system itself. That would threaten the beast’s very existence."

Bella continues to slurp, clearly enthralled.

"In order to be well, healthy and flourishing on this planet, with strong bodies, calm minds and peaceful communities, it's very simple what we must do. We need only to nurture and care for life itself, and the systems that sustain and support life. We need to prioritise care, listening, patience, balance.
But this is the opposite of what the beast needs. The beast isn’t interested in life affirming practices. It's interested in extraction, consumption, expansion and growth."

"These principles for healthy minds, bodies, communities and planets require slowing way, way, way down and living in ways that allow for nurturing relationships, stewardship, and regeneration. Said another way, it means we need to give a real fuck about each other."

"But for the beast, slowing down and us giving a fuck about each other and the planet means its death.
The beast can’t allow these principles because they contradict its ability to exist. The beast eats life."

Bella is splashing in the stream, obviously trying to work through her emotions about this serious stuff. I realise I need to explain very clearly to Bella why this means her human is walking her less and less.

Dogs: this is why your humans aren't walking you

"Bella, your human needs her job to pay for everyday items that she needs to live, such as food and rent, and dog treats of course. But the beast’s hunger keeps driving up the cost of everything. Even if she wanted to escape, it’s hard to find anywhere the beast hasn’t already taken over. She has to work harder than ever to keep up. This means she has less and less time for the things that could truly make her feel better, like getting some fresh air and a big walk with you, Bella."

"The beast makes it harder and harder for humans to make time for, and to enjoy, walking their lovely dogs. Our attention, time, focus and energy are gobbled up by the beast, leaving little room for the simple pleasures that are — ironically— what nourish us the most."

But why can't dogs just eat the beast, or something?

Bella trotted along beside me as I looked for a stick to throw for her. Bella's ears were flicking back occasionally to let me know she was paying attention to my story, and not, as it may have seemed, listening intently for the scurrying rabbits which love to play in the field we were in.

It seemed that Bella was asking an important question.

Woof why not let the beast die? Everything else dies in nature and becomes nourishment woof for something else. Why don't you let the beast so my mum can come woof home? I will eat the beast! I'm getting quite hungry actually, woof.

"Very good question Bella, and one that a lot of us are trying to figure out. The beast is deeply entangled in our world. Most humans depend on the beast in ways they don’t even realise—like pensions. Many humans' retirement savings are tied to the beast’s growth, so if it stops growing, those savings shrink. Most human systems run on borrowed money, with the assumption the future will always be bigger and richer to pay it back. If the beast dies, it all collapses, leaving a lot of humans struggling just to meet their basic needs. This is just one example of many."

Bella's horror at my answer is expressed in sharp barks at a passing spaniel. I know she wants to know what we all need to do next.

Two useful places to start

I sigh.

"I don't know the answer, Bella. But I do know two things that will help us. One is for humans in particular, and that is to understand what we’re up against before we rush to act.The beast thrives on our ignorance and urgency. Seeing the connections between the economy, mental health, and the planet can feel overwhelming at first – it most definitely was for me and I've been dwelling in this for a few years now. But change starts with sitting in that discomfort, being open to questioning what we’ve been told is normal... and refusing to look away."

"The second thing is especially relevant for dogs — but humans can also do this — and it's something you do so well already, Bella. That is: LOVE YOU HUMAN. Love them fiercely, joyfully and unconditionally, over and over again."

"Because when a human feels love, Bella, a deep, primal part of them, a part unreachable by the beast, is softly touched."

Bella licks my hand and we head home.


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