I’m walking the dogs the other day. Per the usual, Whiskey ventures out as far front as her leash will allow, and Rico lags behind at the full extent of his. I hear cars and the high-pitched squeal of arguing kids getting closer, while the wind wraps my hair around my face like a desperate octopus. There are no sidewalks in our neighborhood, so we’re on the side of the road. One thing in our favor is a wide strip of grass next to this particular drag, so I’m desperately, verbally ushering the two hooligans off to the side, but to have eyes on both of them and truly ensure they’re out of harm’s way, I whip around front to back.
That’s when I feel it.
In all the chaos of the moment, I notice a slight resistance under the heel of one foot. I freeze. I can’t see anything much less what lurks in the grass until I can reel in the dogs close enough to free up some arm length and peel the hair from my eyes.
Sure enough, I had just avoided planting my foot in a big pile of dog logs.
Words can’t express the thrill of seeing a mindfulness practice pay off in a way that is both literal and wonderfully metaphoric. I know I cannot avoid life’s caca, but I also know I won’t get stuck in it as long as I stay calm and 100-percent focused on the present moment. What a feeling.
Thanks for stopping by today.
Dog and Dojo is a blog about the wisdom gained when we apply mindfulness and meditation to relationships with our dogs. Start unlocking the wisdom of your pet with our free journal, Buried Treasures_Discovering wisdom from observing your dog, today.