After a week averaging four hours of sleep, an innocent Cornell freshman walks out of their first final and realizes they may have genuinely scored a 12/100. With a sinking feeling in their stomach, nothing could possibly interrupt this moment of despair and sorrow — except the golden retriever across the street.
His name is Dug, and he looks similar to the dog from the Pixar movie Up, with the same floppy ears, wide eyes and endearing smile. Traveling with the College of Veterinary Medicine’s Cornell Companions program, Dug and several other therapy animals belonging to volunteers are brought to campus during high-stress periods like finals and preliminary exams.
“Now, I mean, we’ve met people that don’t like dogs,” said Janet Gray ’88, director of Cornell Companions, “but they might like another animal.”
Hence, the program is home to a wide range of species, including a pygmy hedgehog, cockatoo, horse and llama.
But let’s return to our precocious student who just bombed their final. Before shuffling back to the library, those ten minutes they spent petting Dug were doing more than one may think.
Every time a person positively interacts with an animal, even briefly, there is an almost instantaneous shift in their brain chemistry. Cortisol, often referred to as the “stress hormone,” begins to drop. Oxytocin, often referred to as the “love hormone,” rises. Biochemically speaking, animals are quite good at disrupting the stress response.
Oxytocin is the hormone that surges during close human bonding, whether that’s between friends, romantic partners or families. According to Gray, simply petting a dog registers the same warmth and presence that triggers oxytocin’s release. The human brain, it seems, is not too particular about the species on the other end.
Part of the effect is also attentional, according to Gray. When the average Cornell freshman is alone calculating, say, the final grade needed to pass CHEM 2070 — a notoriously difficult introductory chemistry class — stress tends to pull one inward. Animals have a way of interrupting this loop simply with their presence, pulling one’s attention out of that mental spiral.
"When we go on campus, we have students come up and ... they miss their animals [at home]," Gray said. "It might be even five minutes that they're with the dog and they go, 'oh, I needed this so bad.'"
Researchers tend to describe the effects of therapy animals in terms of chemicals and hormones, but students describe their on-campus animal encounters in more emotional terms. Even encounters that have nothing to do with a therapy animal can have noticeable effects on stress and mood, according to colloquial student accounts.
“All the animals here are a great distraction from classes,” said Nicholas Ridout ’29. “It’s always nice to see a fluffy, well-fed and carefree squirrel.”
Sometimes, stress relief is less scientific and more immediate.
“I noticed that my girlfriend will get mad at a lot of things and that spikes my cortisol,” said Liam Richards ’29. “But if I point out some animal when we’re walking, she usually forgets why she was even mad in the first place.”
Gray doesn’t seem surprised by any of it. “It’s kind of inside of us to love animals,” she said.
As for Dug, it seems like he’s got the best job a golden retriever could ask for.
