Your alarm goes off at 6 a.m. You mindlessly stumble into the shower and begin the morning routine you repeat every single day. You open the door of your car with your left hand, holding your coffee in your right hand, and climb in to drive the same route to work. You arrive and park in the same place and walk into the same door to set that coffee mug in the same place on the same desk before beginning yet another day on the job. You meet the inevitable curveballs of lost homework, spilled orange juice, and flat tires as they arise along the way, but you repeat most of these daily actions automatically without any thought at all.

The complex sequences of movements required for such mundane things as brushing your teeth or driving your car have been successfully repeated so many times that they occur almost effortlessly. Like well-worn riverbeds, the neural pathways underlying these actions now flow with ease. Behaviors once new and overwhelming to you (the first time driving a stick shift, using your new coffeepot, or making a spreadsheet) have become so routine that they virtually repeat themselves. They are habits.

Anyone who has ever tried to change a habit knows how hard it can be. The new girlfriend moves in and wants you to stop leaving your toothbrush on the bathroom sink, perpetually annoyed to find it in the same place months after she admonished you for failing to put it away. It’s not that you don’t care. You just don’t even really notice where you’re putting it anymore. You have been brushing your teeth in that bathroom for five years, putting your toothbrush down in the exact same place every day. You aren’t trying to be disrespectful or cause problems in the relationship. But she takes this toothbrush business pretty personally.

Similar events happen in your relationship with your dog. Some of your dog’s behavior works out pretty well for her and is repeated, becoming a habit over time that could ultimately drive you crazy. For no reason you can identify, she has broken out of her crate every day since you adopted her, chewing up at least one valuable item (remote control, your diary, a pair of new shoes) each time you leave home. She barks and jumps frantically whenever you walk through the door. She has eaten eight pairs of underwear this month and chased at least one hot guy out of your life. She ignores your yelling and pleading amid tears of exasperation. It feels personal. She has been with you for six months now, so she should relax and trust that you will come home. Why won’t she learn?