While doing some stocking stuffer shopping before the holidays, I came across a sticker of a dozing cat with a thought bubble above her head that read, “Meh…” It was cute, so I added it to my purchases.
That sticker has been on my mind lately. The juxtaposition of the “Meh” message with the peacefully lounging cat seems to capture how many of us feel as we navigate the ongoing pandemic, climate-related severe weather, political dysfunction, endangered democracy, labor shortages, and supply chain disruptions. These issues, among more serious consequences, mean that even our beloved pets sometimes have to make do with whatever food we can find on the shelves. For those of us in animal sheltering, we’re also dealing with a constant influx of unwanted and uncared-for animals, a by-product of our consumeristic, disposable society. It’s no wonder it’s hard to feel optimistic as we face these challenges day in and day out.
At our shelter, we have a working cat who enjoys being carried around and looking at things upside down. I’m not sure why she likes this, but it reminds me that sometimes a different perspective can be refreshing. As the New Year begins, I plan to focus on viewing our work through the eyes of the individual animals we help—the dozing cat, so to speak.
The dehydrated stray cat that receives warm fluids and a clean bed doesn’t understand our stress and worries; she only knows that she isn’t thirsty and has a soft place to rest. For the time being, she knows only goodness because of us. The abused dog who hears the soft voice of a staff member murmuring to him doesn’t know we’re concerned about his adoptability; he only knows that kind words are being spoken to him, offering comfort and hope. For the time being, he knows only goodness because of us. The shivering rabbit abandoned in his backyard and brought to the shelter by a kind neighbor doesn’t know how many rabbits we’re currently caring for or how long it takes to get them adopted; he only knows he has a pile of good grass hay to settle into. For the time being, he knows only goodness because of us. There are countless more examples, but the point remains the same.
From the perspective of the animals we serve, we are a source of nothing but goodness and, during this dark time of year, light. The daily activities of our professional rounds bring comfort to countless animals. Unlike the blasé cat of the bumper sticker, I believe the thought bubbles of the animals we serve would say “Yay! Life is good.”
“Yay!” does more than change a bumper sticker. We all endorse positive reinforcement as the most humane and effective way to socialize dogs into well-adjusted family members because celebrating the positive and ignoring the bad works. It builds our dogs’ self-confidence and achieves the results we desire. It’s inspiring, energizing, and in the workplace, it’s contagious.
To say we ignore the bad in positive reinforcement training isn’t quite accurate; rather, we minimize it and make adjustments to the dog’s environment to reduce or eliminate the chances of the bad behavior being repeated. In the workplace, cheerfully focusing on the good and finding humor in our crazy workdays is like adjusting the socio-emotional environment and minimizing the impact of the world’s, or the day’s, stressors. Strive to make your workplace an environment that lifts you up, and you will carry others with you.
In conclusion, as the New Year unfolds, remember that you are a beacon of light to many. Recall the control you have over your response to what Max Ehrmann so soulfully described in the final lines of his 1927 poem, Desiderata: “With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.”
See the beautiful.
