Mom and i are pretty in sync when we go out for a walk. Not a boy-band-from-the-90’s kind of ‘n sync, but more of a here we go…giddy up…i just wanna be with you…under my tree…baby bye, bye, bye kind of in sync. We hike in the snow when it’s cold, we walk in the wet when it’s raining, and we both wake up ready to walk wherever the road may take us at 7 o’clock each morning. We’re walkers my mom and i.
And why not? Walking is fun. As i have mentioned before, when i’m out walking, i get to chase squirrels, carry sticks, chew on chestnuts, swim in the river, jump in the puddles, roll in the poop, and generally run about with wild abandon. Mom, on the other paw, gets to look at the trees, watch the birds, listen to the leaves rustle, and generally breathe deeply while she stretches her legs and tones her bum. But for us, walking is more than an excuse to burn off energy and get some exercise, it is also a time to clear our minds, reflect on what was, plot and plan for what is to come, and generally be one with ourselves for a bit…or two with ourselves as the case may be.
Depending upon how we are feeling, the direction of the wind, or who is around to hear us, we may walk in silence, lost in our own thoughts, or we may discuss my blogs, my Instagram shots, our deepest dreams of making it to the Ellen Show, or generally what is going on in the doggy dimension.
Truth be barked, in all of these scenarios, i am more of a listener. I like to absorb what mom has to say and then offer my feedback in a more tangible expression than the spoken word.
If i’m confused with what she says, i may cross my eyes a bit more than usual and give her a bewildered, bemused, or baffled look.
If her words of the day excite me, i may jump in my tracks and give her an exhilarated, electrified, or exuberant look.
If her chatter strikes me as ridiculous, i may stop where i am and give her my best japing, jeering, or are-you-joking look.
If her diatribe, however, is demanding, i may pull back on the leash and give her the rankled, riled, or really look.
Famous American journalist Christopher Morley is credited with saying, “No one appreciates the very special genius of your conversation as much as the dog does”, and i am here to tell you he was right!
I can listen with the best of them. I can soothe. I can comfort. I can truly be a human’s best friend.
Mom and i are pretty in sync when we go out for a walk,we’re buddies, but sometimes… without seeing it coming…without knowing it is about to happen…without the slightest indication of our walk about to go wrong…we end up on different sides of a tree. Or pole. Or street sign.
Somehow, i go left and she goes right…or i go right and she goes left…or i go straight and she goes—a different kind of straight, and there we have it.
Separated. Partitioned off. Set asunder.
But still connected by our long-lasting link, the leash. The leash is our common bond and what started us on our journey together. It is enduring.
Despite our best efforts, this dissecting dilemma occurs nearly every time we venture out.
What is a dog (or human) to do?
Well, first we stop and look at each other as if clearly the other is to blame. We each confidently assume we are the one who chose the correct path while the other one of us went astray.
Next, we tug on the opposing ends of the leash in futile attempts to pull the other one to our side of the dividing rod. We naively believe our will is greater, and we can simply out muscle the competition with little regard for his or her own strength.
These standoffs often rotate in a repeat cycle and never yield any progress.
Finally, we compromise….maybe unhook the leash for a bit then reconnect on the other side…and find ourselves reunited, strolling away. We graciously accept our momentary meanderings and recognize the indelible intent we both started out with that day…a walk…with wild abandon, deep breaths, and the time to think about how to make our deepest dreams come true. We are together again…in sync.
Until the next day when we start all over.
i’m a dog, i love life, and i have flaws. i’m perfect. imperfect. Just. Like. You.