Before the Holiday Rush Hits: What Your Animals Need From You
A guide to supporting anxious, sensitive, or reactive animals during holiday gatherings, visitors, travel, and seasonal stress.
The fog has been sitting low across the marsh in the mornings. So thick I can’t see more than a short distance ahead. It quiets everything. Even the birds wait before singing. As I scan the horizon, I notice hundreds of spiderwebs the fog has clung to, turning each one into a tiny white tapestry. Threads glisten across the grasses, the trees, even a single strand stretching across the path where a brave little spider leapt from one branch to another.
These webs usually go unseen until you walk face-first into them, but on mornings like this, the fog reveals every secret, every delicate architecture. It hides the distance while bringing the smallest details into breathtaking clarity.
Fog gathers around the cypress knees like a veil, wraps itself in the dangling threads
of Spanish moss, and turns the whole landscape into a watercolor of grays and silvers. There’s a hush in this part of the morning that feels both ancient and intimate, as if the land is slowly revealing itself one softened layer at a time.
It’s beautiful, yes, but also a little eerie in the most inviting way.
The stillness that feels like a threshold.
Like you’re stepping into a cloud and the cloud is stepping into you.
There’s something magical about only being able to see a short distance ahead. A reminder that mystery still exists, even in a world that tries so hard to be knowable. And maybe that’s why this week has felt a little foggy inside, too. Slow, tender, a little suspended. The in-between before something shifts.
Because it is about to shift.
Not just for us but for our animals, too.
The emotional “bigness” of late November
For those of us in the States, next week marks the unofficial beginning of what many lovingly (and not-so-lovingly) call The Holiday Season.
The kickoff to everything.
The gatherings.
The expectations.
The noise.
The “shoulds.”
The “we’ve always done it this way.”
The subtle pressure to hold it all together even when everything in your body is whispering, Slow down. Please slow down.
And our animals feel this long before anyone even defrosts a turkey.
The holidays don’t announce themselves with dates on the calendar, they announce themselves in the energy.
In us.
Animals sense the shift before we do
Animals are exquisitely tuned to the invisible things:
the way our breath gets a little shorter,
the way we start moving faster inside our bodies,
the way unresolved family dynamics wake up like old ghosts,
the way the home’s rhythm changes before the first guest arrives.
They catch the scent of overwhelm the same way they catch the scent of rain.
Some mirror it.
Some withdraw.
Some become clingy or restless.
Some start guarding, pacing, licking, hiding.
None of it is misbehavior. It’s communication.
It’s their way of saying:
I feel the shift.
I’m overwhelmed.
I’m scared.
Are we safe?
I’m trying to adapt in the only language I have.
The season capitalism wants from us vs. the season our bodies want
Let’s be honest: we’re entering the season that capitalism wants to turn into a sprint.
Be productive.
Be cheerful.
Be prepared.
Be grateful.
Be everywhere.
Be everything.
And our nervous systems are over here saying, Actually, no. This is the time of year we’re meant to go inward.
Because biologically and seasonally, we’re supposed to. The days are shorter. The light fades earlier. Our circadian rhythms shift whether we’re aware of it or not, our bodies instinctively shift toward rest, reflection, slower pacing. This is the season of conserving energy, not producing more of it. A natural invitation to pause, restore, and soften. And when we resist that rhythm, our animals feel the strain, as it’s their season of rest too.
So it’s no surprise our animals pick up that tension , the tug-of-war between what’s expected and what’s true.
If you’re hosting next week (or even just bracing for it), here’s how to help your animals and yourself
Before the gathering
• Ground the space.
Smoke cleanse, tuning forks, a quick energy sweep, or simply opening the windows for a few minutes to let the house breathe.
• Tell your animals what’s coming.
They understand more than people give them credit for.
• Create a sanctuary.
A room with the door closed, a familiar blanket, a quiet corner, somewhere they can opt out.
• Regulate yourself first.
Take a slow breath before you start prepping. The whole household shifts when you do.
The day of the gathering
• Greet your animals before your guests.
Anchor them. It sets the tone.
• Let them choose their level of involvement.
No forced interactions. Ever.
• Communicate boundaries with guests:
“Let him come to you.”
“Please don’t feed her scraps.”
“Keep doors closed so she doesn’t slip out.”
• Check in with yourself regularly.
You’re the emotional thermostat of the home.
After everyone leaves
Sit with your animals.
Run your hands over them slowly.
Thank them for holding steady with you.
Let the energy settle the way the fog settles back over the marsh, quietly, naturally, without rushing.
Just like the fog reveals every hidden thread of spiderweb across the marsh, the holiday season reveals every hidden thread of stress, tension, expectation, and emotion in a household. We feel it. Our animal companions feel it. And when we recognize it for what it is, we can meet it more gently.
Final Notes
If this season already feels big for you, emotionally, energetically, or just logistically, please know you’re not alone.
A lot rises to the surface this time of year.
In us, in our animals, in the spaces we share.
This time of year, I also tend to receive the most messages about sudden behavior changes, anxiety spikes, reactivity, and animals who just seem “off.” You’re not alone — it happens to so many households during the holidays. These shifts are almost always tied to nervous system overwhelm, not misbehavior. The tips above will help keep your energy steadier, and when you stay regulated, your animals often follow. And of course, I’m always just a message away if you need more support.
And because of that, I’ve been working on something for next week that I hope brings more steadiness and support into this time.
I’ll share it on Monday.
For now, breathe.
Look out at whatever landscape you have, marsh, forest, fog, city skyline, and let it remind you that you’re allowed to move slowly.
Tenderly.
With intention.
With your animals as your compass.
Coming Next Week
Next week, I’ll be sharing a curated list of my favorite small businesses offering sales through the holiday weekend. Companies I love, companies with heart, many family-run or women-led, and all committed to their communities.
I’ll also include a simple grounding meditation you can use throughout the season to bring yourself (and your animals) back to center.
Supporting them feels more aligned for me than participating in the traditional Black Friday rush.
So if you’re looking to shop in a way that feels grounded and ethical, stay tuned.
Thank you so much for reading this post!
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My name is Melissa, and I’m an animal communicator and energy healer. I live on a little farm in the woods where I’m happily outnumbered by animals: seven dogs, three cats, and a mix of other furry, feathered, and hooved friends who keep life interesting. You can learn more about my work at calmingcreek.com
I’d love to hear from you! Whether you have stories to share or questions to ask, don’t hesitate to join the conversation in the comments section below.
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Disclaimer: The information shared in this blog is for educational and informational purposes only. I am not a veterinarian, and my services are intended as a complementary practice to support your pet’s overall well-being. They are not a substitute for professional veterinary care, diagnosis, or treatment. Always consult your veterinarian regarding any medical concerns, conditions, or treatments your pet may require.