I came to anthrozoology through the same pull that draws most of us into veterinary medicine: a deep conviction that animal wellbeing matters, and that the human-animal relationship is worth taking seriously on its own terms.

My path has been deliberately broad. Clinical rotations, behavioral modification and training, research, and hands-on animal handling across species have all shaped how I think about what it means to care for animals AND the people who love them.

I'm particularly drawn to small animal medicine with a focus on the human-animal bond as a clinical variable. How does the quality of a dog's relationship with its owner affect treatment adherence, anxiety, and outcomes? These questions sit at the intersection of everything I've studied.

At Duke, I built a degree from scratch because no existing major could hold what I was trying to study. I called it Anthrozoology of Companion Animals, and it was exactly what it sounds like: an attempt to understand the human-dog relationship with the same rigor and curiosity that scientists bring to any other complex biological and social phenomenon. I took classes in evolutionary psychology, cultural anthropology, animal cognition, and veterinary medicine. I coordinated research at the Duke Canine Cognition Center under Dr. Brian Hare, where NIH-funded studies on canine social cognition gave me my first real taste of what it means to ask a scientific question carefully. I interned with a turtle rescue team and learned that wildlife rehabilitation is equal parts patience, improvisation, and genuine love for creatures that will never thank you for it.

My honors thesis on what routine leash walks reveal about the human-dog bond brought all of it together. Twenty-seven dyads. Quantitative instruments and ethnographic observation. A finding that surprised me: the depth of a person's bond with their dog, as they describe it, doesn't reliably predict how well they coordinate with that dog in motion. Love and attunement are different things. That distinction feels important, and not just for research.

Now I'm in my gap year, deepening my clinical experience and preparing veterinary school applications. I'm drawn to small animal medicine and the the relational dimensions of it: the way a dog's anxiety in a clinic waiting room is inseparable from its owner's anxiety, the way treatment adherence depends on trust that extends beyond the exam table. I want to practice medicine that takes that seriously.

This site is the paper trail of how I got here, and where I'm going.