Dealing With Unpredictable Days in Dog Care
- Fruzsina Moricz

- Jan 6
- 11 min read
On days when life feels steady, your brain and body actually run differently than on days when everything keeps changing. Studies using “daily diary” methods show that even one day of unexpected schedule changes at work is enough to raise stress, drain your evening energy, and reduce your sense of calm at night.[1][3] Add caregiving for a dog—especially a dog with health issues—and that unpredictability can feel like the default setting, not the exception.
If some days in your life with your dog feel oddly split—calm one hour, chaotic the next—that’s not a personal failing. It’s what happens when a nervous system built to like patterns is asked to live in a world that doesn’t always offer them.

This article is about that gap: between how much predictability our brains quietly rely on, and how much unpredictability real life with a dog actually contains. And then, more practically, how you can bend with it, instead of feeling like you’re breaking.
What “unpredictable days” really are (from your brain’s point of view)
When we say a day is “unpredictable,” we usually mean:
The plan kept changing
Things took longer than expected
Something urgent appeared out of nowhere (a symptom, a spill, a sudden vet trip)
Your emotions were all over the place
Research uses a more specific definition:
Unpredictability: variations and lack of foresight in daily events or tasks that disrupt routine expectations.
This can be:
Stochastic unpredictability – small, day-to-day fluctuations (today the dog eats, tomorrow he refuses; today he’s playful, tomorrow he’s withdrawn).[7]
Volatile unpredictability – bigger, longer-term swings (three stable weeks, then a sudden downturn in health, then a plateau).[7]
Both matter. Both are tiring. And both are very familiar to anyone caring for a dog whose health, behavior, or needs aren’t entirely stable.
Why unpredictability feels so heavy
1. Your brain equates predictability with safety
Our brains quietly use predictability as a safety signal. When things are roughly as expected, you can run on “low gear.” When they’re not, your system moves into a more vigilant mode.
Research shows that exposure to uncertainty reliably:
Increases negative emotions like anxiety, sadness, and anger
Decreases positive emotions like joy and enthusiasm[2]
In uncertainty experiments, people rated anxiety and anger at a median 4 out of 5 when outcomes were unknown.[2] That’s not a mild wobble; that’s “this feels big in my body.”
For dog caregivers, this can look like:
Waiting for test results
Watching for signs of pain and not being sure what you’re seeing
Not knowing if tonight will be a quiet night or a “we might need the emergency vet” night
The body doesn’t distinguish between “my boss just changed my shift” and “my dog just started limping again.” Both are unpredictability. Both ask your brain to stay on alert.
2. Intolerance of uncertainty: when “not knowing” is especially hard
Some people are wired to struggle more with uncertainty. This is called Intolerance of Uncertainty (IU)—a trait describing how difficult it is to sit with “I don’t know yet.”
Studies show that people high in IU:
Have higher daily levels of anxiety and sadness, even when you account for existing diagnoses[4]
React more strongly to everyday uncertain situations[4]
Tend to experience more “internalizing” emotions (worry, rumination, guilt) rather than outward anger[4]
You might recognize this if:
You replay vet conversations in your head, trying to find the one missing piece that would make the future clear
You feel unable to relax until you “have a plan,” even if you logically know the plan might change
You carry a quiet, constant “what if” hum in the background of your day
This isn’t weakness or overreacting. It’s a known pattern in how some brains handle uncertainty. Naming it can be oddly relieving: Oh, this is a thing. It’s not just me.
3. Unpredictability drains your “evening self”
Work research has followed people across their days and into their evenings. On days when work schedules or tasks changed unexpectedly, workers reported:
More stress during the day
Lower “serenity” in the evening
Less ability to recover after work[1][3]
This effect isn’t limited to low-wage or high-wage jobs; it shows up in:
Low-wage workers juggling volatile shifts, where unpredictability is linked to material hardships like hunger and housing instability[5]
Knowledge workers facing shifting, complex tasks, where unpredictability spills into the evening as mental strain[3]
Now layer dog caregiving on top:
A sudden flare in your dog’s symptoms
Moving a vet appointment
Unexpected medication side effects
A night of broken sleep because your dog is restless or unwell
By 9 p.m., it’s not just “I’m tired.” It’s “my system never got to downshift.”
If you’ve ever thought, Why am I this exhausted when “nothing huge” happened today?—this is why. Your day may have looked small on paper but contained a lot of mental gear-shifting.
The long tail: when unpredictability is chronic, not occasional
Early-life unpredictability and adult coping
Much of what we know about unpredictability comes from child development research. Children who grow up with inconsistent routines, unpredictable care, or chaotic environments show higher rates of:
Mood and anxiety disorders[14]
Internalizing and externalizing behavioral problems[7]
Later-life neuropsychiatric symptoms[14]
The details are complex, but the takeaway is simple:
A nervous system that grew up in chaos often becomes very sensitive to chaos later.
If you:
Feel unusually shaken by changes in your dog’s condition
Need strong routines to feel OK
Find that one disrupted plan can ruin your whole day
…that might not just be about the dog. It may be old wiring meeting new stress. Again, not a flaw—just a history.
The limits of prediction: why even the best vet can’t give you a script
Researchers studying life outcomes talk about “Consequential Intervening Events”—unmeasured, unforeseen events that happen after we make predictions and change the path entirely.[11]
In other words:
We can know a lot
We can still be surprised
The surprises can matter more than the prediction
In dog care, those intervening events might be:
An infection after surgery
An unexpected response to a medication
A sudden improvement you didn’t dare hope for
A new treatment becoming available
This is why even excellent vets will sometimes say:
“This is our best estimate, but it could go faster or slower.”
“We’ll know more in 48 hours.”
“Let’s see how she responds to this first.”
They’re not being vague to avoid responsibility; they’re respecting the real limits of prediction. That can feel infuriating when you’re desperate for a clear path. But it’s also honest—and honesty is something you can build trust on.
How emotion regulation gets weird under uncertainty
You’ve probably tried to manage your emotions around your dog’s care. Maybe you’ve told yourself:
“Stay positive.”
“Don’t catastrophize.”
“Other people have it worse.”
Here’s the twist: under uncertainty, some common strategies work differently than we’d expect.
Research suggests:
Acceptance (allowing feelings to be there without fighting them) generally reduces distress across situations.[8]
Under uncertainty, strategies like rumination, reappraisal, and social sharing can have paradoxical effects—sometimes worsening short-term emotional well-being.[8]
Translated into real life:
Strategy | How it can backfire under uncertainty |
Rumination | Going over every “what if” and symptom detail can amplify anxiety instead of finding clarity. |
Reappraisal | Forcing yourself to “find the bright side” when outcomes are unknown can feel fake and invalidating. |
Social sharing | Repeatedly talking about fears without new information can deepen worry rather than relieve it. |
This doesn’t mean those strategies are “bad.” It means:
They’re tools, not magic
Under uncertainty, they may need to be gentler, shorter, or combined with other supports
If they’re not helping, you’re not doing them “wrong”—you’re just in a context where they’re less effective
The surprising upside: unpredictability can sharpen the mind
There is one quietly hopeful finding in all this: training that includes unpredictability can improve cognitive performance.
Studies show that when people practice with unpredictable cues or tasks:
Episodic memory (remembering events) improves
Attentional control (focusing and shifting focus) gets better[9]
This doesn’t mean you should seek chaos. It means your brain is capable of:
Learning to adapt
Getting quicker at shifting
Becoming more flexible over time
Many caregivers notice this without realizing it:
You become faster at spotting subtle changes in your dog
You juggle medication schedules, work, and rest with more skill than you had a year ago
You can “read the day” earlier: This is going to be a high-care day; I need to lower other expectations
Unpredictability is still stressful. It still consumes energy.[3] But it can also build a kind of quiet, practical intelligence—if you’re not completely flattened by it.
Which brings us to the part you can actually shape: not the events, but your relationship to them.
Bending instead of breaking: practical ways to live with unpredictable days
These are not instructions. Think of them as lenses you can try on and keep only if they help.
1. Separate “the day” from “the story about the day”
When everything keeps changing, it’s easy for your inner narrator to jump to:
“I can’t handle this.”
“My life is chaos.”
“I never get a break.”
The data says:
Unpredictability increases negative emotions[2]
People high in intolerance of uncertainty feel that more intensely[4]
So those thoughts are understandable. But they’re also states, not truths.
A small mental shift:
Instead of: “Today was chaos.”
Try: “Today had a high unpredictability load.”
It sounds clinical, but that’s the point. You’re:
Naming the pattern
Reducing the sense that it’s a personal failure
Linking your exhaustion to something real and measurable
You can quietly ask yourself at night:
“Was today hard because I did something wrong, or because the unpredictability load was high?”
That question alone can reduce self-blame.
2. Build “micro-predictability” inside macro-uncertainty
You often can’t control whether your dog has a bad pain day or a good one. But you can build small, reliable anchors around that uncertainty.
Research on child development emphasizes the power of predictability—not in making life perfect, but in giving the nervous system some reliable touchpoints.[10]
For adults caring for dogs, micro-predictability might be:
A short, non-negotiable morning ritual (coffee + 3 minutes of quiet before meds and meals)
A simple phrase you always use before giving medication
A specific corner of the room that’s “the place you sit” while you monitor your dog
A nightly “closing the day” practice (jotting down one observation, one feeling, one tiny win)
These are small, but the brain reads them as:
“Some things are the same. I am not entirely at the mercy of events.”
3. Plan in pencil, not in stone
Unpredictable work schedules have shown us something important: when people expect volatility, they cope better than when it blindsides them.[1][3][5]
You can borrow that principle:
When you make a plan, mentally tag it as:
“Firm” (unlikely to move)
“Flexible” (may move)
“Placeholder” (just a best guess)
For example:
Firm: “8 p.m. pain medication”
Flexible: “Afternoon walk if he seems up for it”
Placeholder: “Maybe visit friends Sunday if this week is stable”
You’re not lowering your standards; you’re:
Matching expectations to reality
Reducing the shock when things change
Giving yourself permission to adapt without feeling like you’ve failed
4. Talk with your vet explicitly about unpredictability
Veterinary care lives in uncertainty:
Prognoses are estimates
Responses to treatment vary
New information arrives over time
You can make this more bearable by bringing unpredictability into the conversation instead of silently carrying it.
Questions that can help:
“Which parts of this plan are predictable, and which parts are ‘let’s see’?”
“What are the main ways this could go differently than expected?”
“If we hit a rough patch, what will ‘normal rough’ look like versus ‘call you immediately’ rough?”
“How often should I expect our plan to change?”
This:
Reduces the shock of changes
Gives you clearer “red flags” vs “annoying-but-okay” days
Turns uncertainty into a shared problem, not a private burden
Most vets are relieved when owners ask this directly; it lets them be honest and supportive without guessing how much information you want.
5. Adjust your emotional tools for uncertain conditions
Remember how some emotion-regulation strategies behave differently under uncertainty?[8] You can adapt them.
For example:
Rumination → Limited review
Instead of looping on “what if,” set a short window:
“For 10 minutes, I’ll write down everything I’m worried about. Then I’ll close the notebook.”
Reappraisal → Gentle, not forced
Instead of “This is actually good,” try:
“There are still parts of this I don’t know yet.”
“There might be small good moments even inside this.”
Social sharing → Boundaried sharing
Instead of talking about your dog’s condition endlessly with anyone who will listen, choose:
One or two trusted people
A set time (“I need 15 minutes to vent”)
A clear end: “After we talk, let’s also talk about something else.”
The aim is not to eliminate your feelings—they are appropriate. The aim is to prevent your coping tools from accidentally turning into amplifiers.
6. Respect the cost of high-unpredictability days
Research on workers shows that days with more unpredictability:
Increase stress
Decrease evening serenity
Interfere with recovery[1][3]
You are also a worker—of love, of logistics, of caregiving.
On days when:
Plans changed repeatedly
Your dog’s condition shifted
You had to make several on-the-spot decisions
…you can assume:
“My system used more fuel today.”
Instead of:
“Why am I so wiped out?”
“I’m being dramatic.”
Try:
“Today was a high-load day; I need more recovery than usual.”
That might mean:
Letting some non-urgent tasks roll over
Saying no to optional social plans
Allowing yourself a smaller “evening self” (less productive, more gentle)
This isn’t indulgence; it’s maintenance.
When unpredictability has been your whole life
For some people, the difficulty with unpredictable days in dog care is intensified by a longer story:
Childhoods that were chaotic or unstable
Adult lives shaped by volatile work, finances, or health
Research shows that early-life unpredictability—both short-term and long-term—predicts:
Later emotional and behavioral problems[7]
Greater risk of mood and anxiety disorders[14]
If you notice that:
Your reactions feel bigger than the situation “deserves”
Your body goes into panic even when your mind says “this is manageable”
You feel ashamed of how hard this is for you
…it may help to quietly acknowledge:
“My nervous system has been training for unpredictability for a long time. No wonder it’s sensitive.”
This isn’t destiny. Brains remain plastic. But it can explain why certain dog-care situations feel like they press very old buttons.
Sometimes, that realization alone softens the self-criticism.
The paradox at the center: we crave predictability, but life won’t fully offer it
Across all this research, a few tensions keep appearing:
We want to know the futureBut consequential intervening events mean even the best predictions can be overturned.[11]
Unpredictability harms well-beingYet training with unpredictability can improve cognitive flexibility and attention.[9]
We’re told to “use coping skills”Yet under uncertainty, some skills can temporarily make feelings worse.[8]
Living with a dog—especially one who is aging, ill, or behaviorally complex—drops you right into all of these paradoxes at once.
You are:
Trying to plan in a world that won’t fully reveal itself
Trying to care deeply about a creature whose future you can’t script
Trying to stay emotionally afloat with tools that sometimes misbehave
No wonder some days feel like chaos.
And yet, within that, something steady can still exist:
A growing understanding of your own patterns
A more honest relationship with your vet
Tiny rituals that hold you when the day does not
A more forgiving inner stance toward the part of you that hates not knowing
You don’t have to become someone who “loves uncertainty.” You’re allowed to dislike it. What you can learn, slowly, is how to live alongside it without feeling like you’re failing each time the day veers off course.
Some days will still be chaos. But over time, you may notice that you bend a bit more, and break a bit less.
References
Work Schedule Unpredictability and Effects on Wellbeing (PubMed Central).
Kause, J., et al. Uncertainty as an Elicitor and Modulator of Emotional States. Frontiers in Psychology.
Work Unpredictability and Employee Wellbeing Diary Study (Taylor & Francis Online).
Intolerance of Uncertainty and Daily Emotionality (Taylor & Francis Online).
Schedule Unpredictability and Material Hardship (Oxford Academic).
Interplay between Uncertainty Intolerance and Emotion Regulation (Nature Communications).
Timescale of Early Life Unpredictability (Nature Communications).
Uncertainty Moderates Emotional Regulation Strategies (PubMed).
Training with Unpredictability Improves Memory (UT Dallas News).
The Power of Predictability for Child Development (Wiley Online Library).
Origins of Unpredictability in Life Outcome Predictions (PNAS).
The Unpredictability of Emotions (Prime Scholars).
Living with Uncertainty (Stanford Report).
Early-Life Unpredictability and Neuropsychiatric Symptoms (NIH PMC).
Normal Unpredictability and Chaos in Life (Sage Journals).





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