How Dogs Outrun Self-Doubt

Dogs age seven years every twelve months.

If humans packed in seven years every twelve months, health insurance would skyrocket, but mental health issues like depression and anxiety, I think, would plummet.

I know what you’re thinking — No way! Anxiety and depression would be higher than ever. Just thinking about my life at 7x the speed is giving me anxiety. I get it, I do. But before you grab your pitchforks and torches, hear me out.

First, let me say I’m aware of the stretch I’m making here. I know seven years in twelve months is in reference to their physical lifespan whatever dah dah dah, but that’s not what we do here. So occasionally, and to benefit the underlying point, the occasional suspension of disbelief is required.

The way I see it, there are two ways a dog's life plays out in this theory:

The first one: everything is in fast motion. Like hitting the fast-forward button to 7x. Moving through life like a travelator in an airport.

Or…

The second: everything is in sync with us. They just have the unique ability to drop the dead weight immediately. If it doesn’t serve them, it gets rejected. There’s no appeal process, no Plan B, no contingency; it’s just gone. There's no time to waste.

When deciding which theory I thought was fitting, I discovered an underlying truth both theories entail – Dogs outrun self-doubt. This is what I mean…

If our emotional regularity moved 7x faster than normal, we essentially would only have time for the action to take place and not the judgment of said action. When what we’re chasing results in a positive outcome, we don’t think about judging ourselves, but the opposite is true when the outcome we desire isn’t achieved.

Take, for example, a little league baseball player. It's the bottom of the 9th, bases loaded, two outs, and one run wins the game. The count is full: 3-2. Here comes the pitch. Swing and a miss. Game over. The batter essentially lost the game for the team, so he thinks.

This little leaguer, whether he knows or not, now has a significant choice to make. His first choice is to learn what he could’ve done differently (if anything), feel the agony of defeat, be upset about it for the amount of time it’s due, then grow from it and move on.

His second choice, however, would be to feel the agony of the moment but also allow those feelings to become part of his identity. Instead of using them as motivation and inspiration, he eventually would believe them to the point of thinking he does not deserve to be a baseball player at all.

Let’s have some fun. Say a dog was up to bat with the same scenario—the game on the line. He strikes out. Would a dog assume he’s not meant to be a baseball player? Or would he assume he just missed connecting the bat with the ball and was excited for the next game to have another chance?

Now, let’s take a look at reality. Brett Favre is one of the greatest quarterbacks ever to play the game. He still holds the number one spot for records in the following areas:

Most Passes Attempted - 10,169

Most Passes Completed - 6,300.

Most Passing Yards - 71,838

Most Season, 3,000 or More Yards Passing - 18

Most Touch Passes - 508

Most Games, Four or More Touchdown Passes - 23

Those are incredible stats. But those records are the ones we like. The popular records. The bragging rights. But what you may not know is he also holds the record for the following:

Most Times Sacked - 525

Most Fumbles - 166

Most Passes Intercepted - 336

As it turns out, to hold the record for the most pass attempts, you also have to hold the record for the most interceptions.

The moral? We always know the result of the passes we don’t make. Throw the ball, and you have a chance.

In relation to the seven years in twelve months thing, I think it’s safe to say, Brett should also hold the record for Most Out-Runs of Self-Doubt.

Dogs don’t have a subconscious filter to decide what affects their self-worth and what doesn’t. But we do. And because we do, common events like these allow us to decide if we’re going to let self-doubt catch us or hop back in the batter's box before it can. And if our lives played out at the rate of seven years in twelve months… well, what would your dog do? Or, better yet, what would Brett do?

Dirt doesn't concern himself with the frisbees he doesn't catch. His misses don’t define him. He would never consider whether he’s worthy of even catching frisbees. If there’s any doubt at all, it’s gone as soon as he chases after the next one.

We can dive into whatever science we want as to why dogs don’t have self-debt shadow chasing them, but I believe it's just what God intended. When we live seven years every twelve months, it's simply not worth allowing whatever’s chasing us to catch up. Not to mention, it’s never our best days chasing after us. It’s always our worst moments and lowest lows. Mine always seems to be some version of believing I’m unloveable. And that sucker’s always wearing a fresh pair of Nike’s. He’s fast. Especially when I set out to start something new.

But eventually, and with the right pace, I’ll fall into a stride he can’t catch. But never, ever, do I assume he’s gone for good. In fact, I’ve never allowed myself to believe I’ve completely outrun him at all.  I assume he’s with Usain Bolt somewhere training, probably wearing one of those crazy-looking oxygen mask things, just waiting for the right time to lap me. The bastard.

So, I guess the question is, if humans lived at the rate of seven years every twelve months, why would this decrease the rate of depression and anxiety? Simple. We’d be living seven times faster than self-doubt.

The next time your confidence is in question, make damn sure you haven't simply allowed self-doubt to catch up. And if you have, guess what? Congratulations! You’re human! The good news is, as soon as you notice it, you’ve already started to outrun it.

The longest Cattle Dog to ever live was Bluey, who managed to squeeze out twenty-nine human years (203 dog years). He held the Guinness World Record for the oldest dog until October 2023, when a dog in Portugal named Bobi lived to thirty-one (217 dog years).

Until we humans can start putting up those kinds of numbers, let’s take a lesson from our dogs and leave self-doubt in the dust.

Bluey The Cattle Dog

Bobi (Current Oldest Dog Record Holder)

Brett Favre Records