Pets, Purpose & Paws

The Quiet Power of Being Needed

When Sharon Hager talked with me about her dog Oliver, she said something that stayed with me: pet ownership can fill a void you did not even know you had. I think there is something profound in that observation, especially after retirement. For decades, many of us have had calendars telling us where to be, people depending on us, and responsibilities structuring our days. Then retirement arrives, and suddenly we have something we spent years wishing for: freedom. What we may not anticipate is how strange all that freedom can occasionally feel.

Oliver gave Sharon a new rhythm. He needs to be fed. He needs to go outside. He follows her around the house. He gets her walking through the neighborhood, where she has met people she might otherwise never have known. None of those things sounds particularly revolutionary. Taken together, though, they create something very human: someone is counting on me.

There is research behind some of what Sharon described, although the science is more nuanced than the simple claim that “pets make us healthier.” A longitudinal study using data from the Baltimore Longitudinal Study of Aging found associations between pet ownership and some measures of psychological health, while other measures were mixed. Dog walking was associated with slower increases in anxiety and depression. Earlier research from the same study also found pet ownership associated with less deterioration in several measures of physical function over time. These studies show associations rather than proving that a pet causes those outcomes, but they make the human-animal relationship an intriguing part of the healthy-aging conversation.

I also think we should resist romanticizing pet ownership. An animal brings expense and responsibility. Travel becomes more complicated. Mobility matters. And those of us bringing animals into our lives later should think seriously about who will care for them if someday we cannot. Loving an animal responsibly means thinking about its future as carefully as we think about our own.

But perhaps Oliver's greatest contribution to Sharon's retirement cannot be measured in a study. There is another living creature in the house. There is a reason to get up. There is somebody delighted when you come through the door. Sometimes purpose arrives with a résumé and a grand plan. Sometimes it weighs ten pounds and wants to sit in your lap.