Why My Dog Is The Happiest Employee I Know

By Marissa Rotolo

Crusoe The Celebrity Dachshund / @CrusoeDachshund

After a full day we mentally erase the to-do list of things planned. Gym? I’m too tired. Read my book? I can’t focus right now. Cook a decent meal? I’d rather do something quick. Soon your free time becomes a revenge plot to reclaim all the sleep you lost from the night before.

We try our hardest to not let digital fatigue become our reality. As Supriyadi and colleagues noted in a 2025 review published in Environment and Social Psychology, digital fatigue is part of a burnout triad that includes a lack of enthusiasm, disengagement, and cynicism.

We come home from a full day and go straight from one screen to the next.

The other day, I picked up my dog, Luca, from daycare. He was burnt out after a long day of playing with his friends—a typical workday in his world. He came home, flopped on the couch and waited for someone to engage with him again. It made me wonder: How much more energy could humans hold if we weren’t constantly swallowed by digital fatigue?

Luca’s life isn’t bound by pressure or pings. It’s shaped by curiosity, companionship, and the question of who will play with him next. He’s never logged onto GroupMe, tuned into a Google Meeting, or gotten buried in an endless email chain—and he’s probably better off because of it.

We call our dogs our best friends, but how often do we truly take the time to get to know them?

Luca!

Luca notices things I don’t. The rustle of a grass patch, the moment before thunder strikes, and the slight change in wind near the path outside of our house. Meanwhile, I lose hours scrolling through TikTok and LinkedIn. While I’m juggling a job application, Luca is juggling one moment at a time.

Digital fatigue strips us of that presence. It baits us with urgency and tells us that rest must be earned. Dogs don’t fall for that. They play when they want to play. They nap unapologetically. They ask for affection without shame. They live the kind of life we read self-help books about.

So when I come home, sweaty from the heat, frustrated that it’s already 5 p.m. and I haven’t done anything that feels real, or itching for a mindless doom scroll, I’ll look at Luca and remember: life exists beyond the screen. And I am far too late to that party. Life doesn’t stop existing Monday-Friday.

Luca’s tiredness is different from mine. His is earned, mine is absorbed. Sometimes, we must answer the call to pause not just our screens, but our inner thoughts, and remind ourselves what kind of tiredness we want to come home with.