I Strive to Be Who My Dog Sees

I strive to be who my dog sees, at least on a good day. Like now, right after we went on an unplanned, impromptu walk on a short trail through the forest. It wasn't very long; it's pretty warm for an autumn morning and he has a water fixation, not to mention the two tiny ticks I pulled off his belly. The walk was long enough, though, to get him out of the house on a workday and give him some much-needed sniff time outdoors.

So, to him, right now, I am a champion. At one point, when I asked him if he was having fun, he turned around and smiled at me the the biggest wide-toothed grin, then stopped me in my tracks so he could come in for a mid-trail cuddle. At these moments, I feel like I'm actually doing something right. The absolute best feeling in the world.

I wish I could say I felt like this all the time. But clearly, I don't. I flounder a lot. I struggle with who I am, with what is right, and with how to stay happy. I am a yo-yo and a roller coaster; so, when I am gifted these moments of assurance, I feel them to my core. He is the compass that reminds me I actually know how to read one (sometimes).

Inevitably, as I spend hours in my office writing, there are countless doggie looks of "when are we going to do something fun?" and "why are you so boring?" There are even the looks of "you are the most horrible mother ever," although I know deep down he's never serious. Those sad looks make these happy and reassuring moments all the more powerful and also drive home the importance of choosing priorities wisely.

Take, for instance, this morning. I was going to dive right into my mountain of work after dropping the truck off at the shop. But something stopped me…Ranger looked at me, but not with sad eyes. He looked hopeful, expectant, encouraging, reminding me of how I can choose to be my best self, the me I want to be.

There are times when work takes precedence, when we all need to be task masters or "responsible" worker bees. But then there are times when we need to take the best of life by the leash and go for a walk in the woods.