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Tracking Good Days vs Bad Days

  • Writer: Fruzsina Moricz
    Fruzsina Moricz
  • Mar 13
  • 10 min read

On any given week, most people report at least one “bad day” and one “good day.” Yet when researchers tried to teach computers to tell those days apart using movement, heart rate, and sleep data from wearables, the models only reached modest accuracy (around AUC 0.66)[1][3]. In other words: even with all that data, “good” and “bad” are not simple categories. They are patterns.


For caregivers of dogs with chronic conditions, that complexity will feel familiar. One day your dog eats, plays, and naps in a sunbeam – “a good day.” The next, they’re restless, off their food, and you’re wondering whether something has changed or whether this is just…a bad day.


Tracking those days – not obsessively, but attentively – can turn that fog into something more navigable. It doesn’t make the bad days disappear. But it can make them less mysterious, and sometimes that’s the difference between panic and a plan.


Family sitting on the floor petting a golden retriever, smiling. Father holding a book. Bright room with floral cushions. Wilsons Health logo.

This article is about how to track good vs. bad days in a way that reveals patterns, supports your vet, and protects your own emotional well-being.


What are we really tracking?


Researchers talk about subjective well-being (SWB) – how someone feels about their life and day, combining:

  • Emotions (positive and negative feelings)

  • Judgments (“today was okay,” “this is getting worse,” “I can handle this”)[2][6]


When you think about your dog, you’re doing your own version of SWB assessment – just on their behalf.


For a dog with a chronic condition, a “good day” might mean:


  • Eats close to normal

  • Moves with their usual gait, even if slower

  • Shows interest in family, toys, or smells

  • Sleeps comfortably, not excessively restless

  • Pain signs (panting, pacing, licking a joint) are minimal or absent


A “bad day” might mean:

  • Markedly reduced appetite or skipping meals

  • Struggling with stairs or avoiding usual activities

  • Hiding, clinginess, or unusual irritability

  • Restless nights, frequent position changes, whining

  • Clear pain behaviors or breathing changes


What you’re really tracking is a bundle of things: behavior, energy, comfort, and your own sense of “something’s off.”


That bundle is where patterns live.


Why good vs. bad days feel lopsided


Psychology has a slightly grim but useful phrase: “bad is stronger than good.” Across hundreds of studies, negative events have been shown to:

  • Hit harder emotionally

  • Last longer in memory

  • Influence our decisions more than positive events[8]


This isn’t drama; it’s biology. Our brains evolved to notice threats.


Applied to caregiving:

  • One awful night of pain or vomiting can overshadow three okay days.

  • A single bad vet visit can color your sense of the whole month.

  • A run of “not great, not terrible” days can blur into “we’re declining,” even if the overall pattern is more nuanced.


Bad days also tend to spill over:

  • A rough day with your dog can make the next day feel fragile, even if they’re better.

  • Your own sleep and mood are affected, which then changes how you interpret your dog’s behavior.


This doesn’t mean you’re overreacting. It means you’re human. But it does mean that relying only on memory can give a skewed picture.


Tracking is partly about quieting that bias – not by ignoring bad days, but by placing them in context.


The science of daily ups and downs (and what it means for dogs)


In human studies where people rated their mood multiple times a day over weeks or months, a few consistent patterns emerged:

  • Well-being fluctuates a lot within the same person – more than it differs between people[1][2].

  • Weekends are often better than weekdays in mood and activity, and that pattern can persist across entire semesters or seasons[1].

  • Activity and sleep are strongly linked to reported good or bad days[1].

  • Short-term events (a bad interaction, a piece of good news) can shape the whole day’s “headline,” even when the underlying life situation hasn’t changed[9].


Now translate that into a dog with a chronic condition:

  • Pain, nausea, fatigue, and medication side effects all fluctuate.

  • Weather, visitors, noise, and your own schedule can push a day toward “good” or “bad.”

  • Sleep quality (restless vs. deep) and movement (more vs. less) are often reliable clues to comfort.


Your dog’s “baseline” isn’t a straight line. It’s a wavy one. Tracking helps you see whether those waves are:

  • Oscillating around a stable level, or

  • Trending downward over weeks, or

  • Reacting to identifiable triggers (weather, activity, food changes, stress).


Hedonic adaptation: why “this is our new normal” can be a double-edged sword


Humans are surprisingly good at adapting. Research on hedonic adaptation shows that after big positive or negative events, people tend to drift back toward a personal “set point” of well-being over time[2][6].


In long-term caregiving, that can look like:

  • What would once have been “an awful day” slowly becoming “just one of our days.”

  • Your standards for “good” quietly lowering as you adjust.

  • You describing things as “fine” at the vet because they’re better than your worst days, not because they’re actually good.


This adaptation can protect your sanity – but it can also mask gradual decline or ongoing distress, for both you and your dog.


Written tracking cuts through that by giving you something more reliable than memory that has slowly shifted its calibration.


Emotional complexity: when a “bad day” isn’t only bad


One of the more hopeful findings in human research is affective complexity – the ability to feel mixed emotions at the same time.


People who can feel sad and grateful, or worried and proud, tend to show better physical health and resilience over time[4]. They don’t deny the bad, but they can also register the good that’s still present.


Caregiving almost forces this:

  • You might feel deep worry about your dog’s prognosis and genuine joy when they perk up for a walk.

  • A day of increased pain might also bring more cuddling and closeness.

  • A “bad day” physically can sometimes be a “good day” emotionally in terms of bonding.


Tracking that complexity can be surprisingly stabilizing. Instead of a single thumbs-up/thumbs-down:

  • “Pain worse today, but still excited for food.”

  • “Very low energy, but slept peacefully and enjoyed being brushed.”


This isn’t toxic positivity. It’s accurate reporting. And accuracy is what helps you and your vet make better decisions.


The tracking paradox: helpful, but emotionally risky


There’s growing recognition in human psychology that tracking happiness can backfire if done carelessly[13]:

  • Focusing on ratings can make people hyper-aware of every dip.

  • Some start “chasing numbers” instead of noticing real experience.

  • Daily logging can become another task to fail at, especially on hard days.


Dog caregivers are vulnerable to a similar trap:

  • Feeling guilty if you miss a day of notes.

  • Interpreting every bad day as a sign you’re failing.

  • Watching numbers go in the “wrong” direction and feeling helpless.


So the goal is not to become your dog’s data analyst. It’s to use tracking as a gentle tool, not a verdict.


A good litmus test:If your tracking leaves you consistently more anxious, guilty, or obsessed, the system needs adjusting – not your love or effort.


What patterns actually tend to emerge?


From research on humans, chronic illness, and daily experience, several recurring patterns show up.


1. Activity and sleep as quiet predictors


In smartphone and wearable studies, daily movement and sleep quality were among the best predictors of reported good vs. bad days[1]:

  • More movement (within a person’s normal range) → more positive days

  • Better, more consolidated sleep → better next-day mood


For dogs, similar patterns often show:

  • Mobility: willingness to walk, posture changes, speed, hesitation on stairs

  • Rest: ability to settle, length of uninterrupted sleep, night-time restlessness


Over time, you may see:

  • A cluster of bad days after nights of poor sleep

  • Better days when walks are shorter but more frequent

  • Bad days after overdoing it on a “good” day


2. Clustering of bad days


Because “bad is stronger than good,” bad days can:

  • Influence how you remember the whole week[8]

  • Have emotional aftershocks – you might be more vigilant, tired, or sad the next day

  • Lead to more conservative activity (fewer walks, less play), which can then change your dog’s patterns


Tracking can reveal whether bad days are:

  • Randomly scattered, or

  • Clustered around specific triggers, like:

    • Weather changes

    • Activity spikes

    • Medication timing

    • Vet visits or grooming

    • Household disruptions (guests, travel, noisy construction)


3. Seasonal and life-event patterns


Long-term mood tracking in humans shows seasonal patterns and links to life events[7]:

  • More positive days during lower-stress periods

  • Dips around anniversaries, losses, or high workload


For you and your dog, patterns might appear around:

  • Hot or cold seasons (arthritis, breathing issues)

  • Allergy periods

  • Holiday schedules, travel, or kids being home

  • Your own high-stress work stretches


Sometimes, what feels like “my dog is getting worse” is partially “our environment has shifted.” That distinction matters when you’re weighing treatment changes.


4. Technology and “good day” behavior


Chronic illness research finds that on good days, people are more likely to:

  • Engage in creative or physical activities

  • Interact more with technology and social contacts[5]


You might see the canine version:

  • On good days, you take more photos, share more updates, go on slightly longer walks.

  • On bad days, you’re quieter, less inclined to log things, more focused on getting through.


This has a subtle effect: your records can be biased toward good days, simply because you have more energy to record them. Being aware of that bias helps you interpret your own notes with kindness.


Building a humane, realistic tracking habit


You don’t need a research-grade system. You need something you can actually live with, especially when things are hard.


Start with definitions that belong to you (and your vet)


“Good” and “bad” are personal. Two dogs with the same diagnosis might have very different baselines.


Useful starting questions:

  • On a good day, my dog:

    • Eats: ______________________

    • Moves: _____________________

    • Interacts: __________________

    • Sleeps: _____________________


  • On a bad day, my dog:

    • Eats: ______________________

    • Moves: _____________________

    • Interacts: __________________

    • Sleeps: _____________________


Share this with your vet. You’re essentially saying,“When I say ‘bad day,’ here’s what I mean.”

That shared language reduces misunderstandings and makes your later logs much more clinically useful.


Choose a format that feels kind


Options, from simplest to more structured:

  • One-line daily note in your phone or a notebook:

    • “Mostly good; slower on evening walk, ate ¾ dinner.”

  • 3–5 quick sliders (0–5 scale) for:

    • Appetite

    • Mobility

    • Mood/interest

    • Sleep quality (last night)

    • Pain signs

  • Symbols or colors on a calendar:

    • Green: clearly good

    • Yellow: mixed/okay

    • Red: clearly bad


The right system is the one you use on typical days, not just the dramatic ones.


Track both your dog and yourself (lightly)


Your experience shapes what you see. Personality traits like neuroticism (tendency to worry) and extraversion (tendency toward positive mood) strongly influence how people judge their days[2].


You don’t need a personality test, but you can note:

  • “I was very anxious today”

  • “I barely slept last night”

  • “Stressful work day; might be extra sensitive”


This isn’t to invalidate your observations – it’s to add context. When you look back, you might see that some “worst days” coincided with your own worst days. That’s useful, not shaming.


Using patterns in conversations with your vet


Systematic tracking has a practical payoff: better shared decision-making.


Instead of:

“She’s been having more bad days lately.”

You can say:

“In the last three weeks, she’s had 7 days where she wouldn’t do the evening walk and ate less than half her dinner. Those days often follow more active days.”

Or:

“Since we changed the medication timing, his nights are more restless about twice a week, but daytime mobility is better.”

This kind of information helps your vet:

  • See beyond the snapshot of a single appointment

  • Adjust medications or routines more confidently

  • Distinguish between random bad days and a real downward trend

  • Understand your thresholds for “this is no longer okay”


It also helps in harder discussions – about escalation of care, palliative options, or end-of-life decisions. You’re not relying on a single awful day; you’re looking at a trajectory.


When tracking becomes too much


There are real ethical and emotional tensions around monitoring, even in human research[13]:

  • At what point does “being informed” become “being haunted” by numbers?

  • How do we balance objective data with subjective experience?

  • When does adaptation (“this is our normal”) protect us, and when does it hide distress?


For dog caregivers, some red flags that your system might need softening:

  • You feel dread opening your tracking app or notebook.

  • You judge yourself harshly for “missing” days.

  • You feel pressure to “produce” good days.

  • You find yourself re-reading bad days repeatedly.


If that resonates, you might:

  • Simplify – move to a basic color code or just noting very bad days.

  • Shift focus – add one line each day for “something my dog seemed to enjoy,” even on rough days.

  • Share the load – ask another family member to help with notes.

  • Take breaks – it’s okay to pause tracking during particularly overwhelming periods and tell your vet that’s what you’re doing.


The goal is not perfect data. The goal is sustainable clarity.


Balancing objective signs with your inner sense


Wearables and apps can feel reassuringly precise. But research reminds us that:

  • Models that classify good vs. bad days from physiological data are only moderately accurate[3].

  • Behavioral or activity data can’t fully capture subjective experience – the quiet discomfort, the vague “offness,” the emotional tone of a day[3][15].


For your dog, that means:

  • A “normal activity” day can still be a bad pain day if they’re stoic or driven by habit.

  • A low-activity day might be peaceful and content, not necessarily a decline.

  • Your sense of “this doesn’t feel like him” is data, too – just a different kind.


The most reliable picture usually comes from both:

  • Objective-ish signs (eating %, mobility, sleep, breathing)

  • Your lived sense of their comfort and personality


If they disagree, that’s not a failure. It’s a signal to look closer, ideally with your vet’s help.


Good days, bad days, and the story you’re living


Workplace studies show that people judge their days not just by big events, but by many small interactions that accumulate[9]. A minor kindness can redeem an otherwise rough day; a series of small frustrations can sink a neutral one.


Life with a chronically ill dog is similar. A “bad day” on paper can still hold:

  • The way they relaxed when you lay down beside them.

  • How they lifted their head at the sound of your voice.

  • The small tail flick when you brought their favorite blanket.


None of that erases pain or difficulty. But noticing it – and sometimes writing it down – can change the shape of the day in your memory.


In the end, tracking good vs. bad days is less about building a chart and more about building a clearer relationship with reality:

  • What’s changing?

  • What’s stable?

  • What helps?

  • What doesn’t?

  • What still brings them comfort, even now?


Patterns won’t save you from hard decisions. But they can save you from feeling lost inside them. On the hardest days, knowing “we’ve seen this before, and here’s what usually happens next” can be a quiet form of hope – not that everything will be fine, but that you are not walking blind.


You are learning your dog’s story in detail. And that, in itself, is an act of care.


References


  1. Weizenbaum, E., et al. (2017). Well-Being Tracking via Smartphone-Measured Activity and Sleep: Cohort Study.  

  2. “Subjective well-being.” Wikipedia.

  3. Burghardt, K., et al. (2021). Having a Bad Day? Detecting the Impact of Atypical Events Using Wearables. ACM.

  4. Ong, A. D., et al. (2013). When Feeling Bad Can Be Good: Mixed Emotions Benefit Physical Health.  

  5. “Good Days, Bad Days: Understanding Trajectories of Chronic Illness.” ACM, 2023.

  6. Happiness: The Science of Subjective Well-Being. BCcampus Pressbooks.

  7. Calendar.com. Tracking Your Mood Daily: Insights from Matt D’Avella.  

  8. Baumeister, R. F., & Bratslavsky, E. (2001). Bad is Stronger than Good. Psychological Review.

  9. Ilies, R., et al. Good and bad days at work: A daily diary study of mood and work outcomes. Wiley Journals.

  10. Psychology Today. Having a Bad Day. 2024.

  11. Positive Psychology. Best Mood Trackers. 2024.

  12. Positive Psychology. Subjective Wellbeing. 2024.

  13. Dennis-Tiwary, T. Tracking Happiness Will Backfire. Substack, 2024.

  14. IAAP Journals. Traumatic losses permeate daily emotional experiences.  

  15. LessWrong. Being Wrong about Your Own Subjective Experience.

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