The bond between humans and animals is more than just companionship - it's a powerful connection that profoundly impacts our well-being. Whether it’s the quiet comfort of a cat curled beside us or the exuberant joy of a dog greeting us at the door, (my 13 year old dog Olive is pictured below) animals have a unique way of grounding us in the present moment. This connection taps into something deeply emotional and primal, providing a sense of purpose, unconditional love, and non-judgmental presence that is often hard to find in the modern world.
Numerous studies have shown that interacting with animals can significantly reduce stress, lower blood pressure, and decrease symptoms of anxiety and depression. Petting a dog or listening to the gentle purr of a cat can trigger the release of oxytocin, a hormone linked to bonding and relaxation. Beyond pets, even short interactions with animals in nature, like watching birds or caring for farm animals, can enhance mental clarity and foster a sense of calm. In a fast-paced, digitally driven society, our connection with animals reminds us to slow down, be present, and engage with the world in a more compassionate, mindful way.
My Story
This is my story about friendship, love, loss and connection. It's a story I feel like I need to express as it was a profound experience. This story is about a different kind of friend, however, one that doesn't speak English and one that is a tad furry. It was September 3rd, 2024 (this day is of major significance as it is my parent's wedding anniversary). This year would have been their 58th. I woke up to footsteps running up and down my deck. I wondered what kind of animal this could be? It sounded too loud to be a barn cat, but a tad louder than a possible deer. As I pulled back my bedroom curtains to take a look, I was in shock to see it was a calf elk staring at me from my deck. Little did I know that this would start a friendship with a very spiritual experience for my family and I.
We watched as this elk continued running up and down our deck-seeming to be scared yet also very curious and a tad excited. As I tried to calm my dog down, I wondered what on earth we were to do with this new experience. We realized right away that we needed to move quite a few things on our deck. My son quickly named her Ellie. We watched as Ellie decided to leave our deck and head back towards the mountains. I really didn't know if I would see her again.
The next day, I drove up to my house and as I parked, I rolled down my window and began talking to my father-in-law who was up for a visit. All of a sudden, I saw something out of the corner of my eye - it was Ellie running towards my car. Oh my goodness! All of these thoughts were going through my head, is she going to charge us? Is my father-in-law going to be safe? How am I going to get out of my car and into my house? My father- in-law slowly backed away from her and I roll up my window. Now, I don't know about you, but I have never been approached by wildlife before and honestly, I didn't know what to do. I remember feeling a tad scared. "Enjoy the moment already and stay calm" I remember saying to myself.
Ellie just waited right next to my car as if she was saying "Hurry up already!" I decided to be brave and get out of my car. I figured she would be able to sense my love for animals and calm demeanor if I portrayed that I was indeed calm (even though inside my heart was rapidly racing). Ellie approached me just like a dog would do when you come home from a long day at work, excited and humble. I slowly got out of my car as her snout rubbed up against my stomach. Ok, she didn't bite me...I think I'm ok.
I realized very quickly that she just wanted to be around us. She sniffed us, stood by us and made a funny elk chirping sound as if she was saying "Geez people. I just want to be your friend." I was so physically close to her that I could see how long her eyelashes were (gosh I was jealous of those eyelashes!) and how delicate, yet strong her little hooves were. I slowly became used to having her next to me, realizing that she wasn't going to hurt us in any way, she just wanted to be near us. As I went about my outside duties, she continued following me around. I noticed that I began talking to her as if she were a part of our family. "Here, Ellie. Be careful Ellie." After about an hour of her following me around, she decided to walk back towards the mountains with a similar route when I first saw her on my deck. Once again, I didn't know if I would see her again.
I felt myself longing for her and missing her if she wasn't near. I wondered if I would see her every day? Would she be okay? Where did she sleep? Would she remain safe? I knew this was strange, after all, she was a wild animal, but I couldn't help but find myself getting closer with her. This connection was powerful-one that is hard to explain in words. Often she would just hang out with me while I was doing yard work or while I was outside sitting. Even though Ellie didn't have a family, I felt as though she found us - we became her family.
September 25th was the last day that we saw Ellie. She showed up at our door at 7:25 a.m. looking as though she wanted to come inside and have breakfast with us. I went outside and hung out with her - little did I know that would be our last encounter. This friendship was a strong one that only lasted 22 days, but one that I will always hold close to my heart. I keep thinking (kind of like a Disney movie) that I will be driving near my house one day and Ellie (all grown up) will come running towards us to say hello and then will make her way back to her herd. I continue to look for her every day. Ellie reminded me to stay present, connect with others and believe in those surreal, magical moments. When we are open to magic, it is all around us. Thank you Ellie for coming into our lives. We later found out that Ellie was a boy, but she will always be Ellie (the girl) to us.
In many ways, animals serve as mirrors - reflecting our emotional states while offering us the chance to practice empathy, patience, and gentleness. They don’t need us to be perfect; they simply need us to show up, to care, and to connect. In return, they offer comfort in silence, joy in small moments, and a reminder that connection doesn’t always require words. Whether we’re walking a dog, feeding backyard birds, or simply observing wildlife from afar, these moments offer grounding, perspective, and healing.
As we continue to navigate the challenges of daily life, it’s worth remembering that sometimes, the greatest source of calm and connection might just be waiting with wagging tails, fluttering wings, or curious eyes. Embracing the presence of animals, whether through pet ownership or quiet observation, can gently pull us out of our heads and into our hearts, reminding us that we are never truly alone.
