Have you noticed groups of kids bounding across the grass on all fours, wearing ears, tails, and intricate masks, fully embracing the role of cats, foxes, wolves, or rabbits? This growing trend, widely known as quadrobics, has sparked distinct waves of concern among parents and teachers alike. At first glance, the behavior looks strange, perhaps even alarming to the uninitiated eye. Yet, beneath the costumes and the quadrupedal movement lies something deeply human: a powerful, primitive urge to express parts of ourselves that the rigid structures of everyday life often push down.

Where Did Quadrobics Come From?

The movement draws its distant inspiration from Kenichi Ito, a determined Japanese athlete who, starting around 2008, trained rigorously to run on all fours like a patas monkey. His dedication was not merely play; he earned a legitimate place in the Guinness World Records for the fastest 100-meter sprint on hands and feet. Ito spent years perfecting his technique, often practicing in remote areas to avoid public scrutiny while he developed the musculature to move efficiently on all fours. While his story is unusual, it highlighted the physical possibilities of moving like an animal.

However, today’s version—popularized on social media platforms like TikTok—is very different from Ito’s athletic endeavor. It has evolved into a youth subculture where teens dress as animals and imitate their movements, vocalizations, and behaviors. Children have, of course, always played at being animals; think of a toddler galloping like a horse or a kindergartner crawling like a tiger. What makes modern quadrobics stand out is how fully some teens immerse themselves in the persona and how rapidly the trend has spread globally.

Why Does It Appeal So Strongly to Teens?

Adolescence is notoriously a time of intense inner pressure and confusion. Hormones surge, identity is in flux, and the desire to test boundaries becomes almost irresistible. Society expects teens to behave in very specific ways—to be polite, responsible, academic, and conforming—yet inside, many feel wilder, unmanageable impulses: anger, rebellion, raw energy, and even sexual curiosity. These feelings are entirely natural, but they can feel dangerous or unacceptable in the context of ordinary school and family life.

A costume and a mask change that dynamic entirely. When a teen becomes a "wolf" or a "cat," the social rules loosen. The mask creates a necessary emotional distance, allowing the teen to think: "This isn’t me being aggressive—it’s the animal." It allows them to growl, pounce, scratch, or cuddle in ways they might never dare as their usual, self-conscious self. In that created space, suppressed emotions find a safe outlet. It becomes a unique method to explore concepts of power, freedom, and intensity without bearing the full weight of real-world social consequences.

We see similar psychological patterns elsewhere. Studies of costumed events, such as Halloween, demonstrate that when people feel anonymous, they more readily act on impulses they normally restrain. The animal suit works in precisely the same way: it acts as a temporary permission slip to let the inner wildness out.

The Deeper Needs Behind the Behavior

While often harmless, sometimes the intensity of the hobby signals more than typical teenage rebellion. If a teen seems unable to step out of the role—if they wear the gear constantly, refuse normal human interaction, or channel excessive aggression—it may point to deeper, unresolved struggles. Chronic stress, family conflict, or past trauma can make inhabiting an everyday human identity feel overwhelming.

In rare and specific cases, strong identification with an animal persona can reflect attempts to cope with pain that feels too big to face directly. By dissociating into a simpler, instinct-driven creature, the teen may be trying to escape complex emotional hurt. However, most teens simply grow through this phase naturally. After a year or two, the costume comes off, and new interests take its place. The key for adults is to watch calmly and ask the right questions: What need is this meeting?

• Is it a need for connection and community with peers?
• Is it a way to feel brave and powerful around a crush or a bully?
• Is it a physical release of built-up frustration or anxiety?

Understanding the underlying need opens the door to real support and connection.

How Should Adults Respond?

Panic, judgment, and punishment rarely help in these scenarios. Forbidding the costume or shaming the behavior often drives it underground or hardens the teen’s attachment to it as a form of identity defense. Instead, stay curious and steady. Accept the "fox" or "bunny" when it appears, and warmly welcome your child when they return to their human self. Let them know both parts of them are seen and safe with you.

If the behavior becomes extreme—marked by uncontrolled aggression, total social withdrawal, or an inability to function in school without the persona—it is wise to consult a child psychologist. Early, compassionate help can make all the difference in helping them integrate their emotions.

At its heart, quadrobics reveals something universal: we all carry an inner animal—the raw, instinctive side that civilization asks us to tame. Teens, with their still-forming boundaries, feel that energy most acutely. By approaching this trend with understanding rather than fear, we give them the room they need to explore, integrate, and eventually balance both sides of who they are.

References

• Diener, E., Fraser, S. C., Beaman, A. L., & Kelem, R. T. (1976). Effects of deindividuation variables on stealing among Halloween trick-or-treaters. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 33(2), 178–183.
  The study demonstrates how costumes and anonymity reduce self-restraint and increase impulsive or antisocial actions, offering insight into how animal masks can lower inhibitions in teens.
• Keyes, D. (1981). The Minds of Billy Milligan. New York: Random House.
  This book details a documented case of extreme identity fragmentation, illustrating rare but severe forms of dissociation and the protective role alternate personas can play—relevant when considering intense animal identification as a coping mechanism.