Walking the Dog: Why the leash in my hand guides me more than the dog

I don’t have a dog in my life. I used to, but he went with everything else in the divorce. So when  I got to take my friend’s poodle for walks while they were away, I remembered why I loved taking my huge white Pyrenees out for long, long, rambles around the city. And I learned some things too.

Dogs feel every tiny shift in the person attached to the other end of a leash. They feel you noticing the bicycle, the jogger, the squirrel, and they feel you worrying about it. If you are worried, they are worried, although they don’t know why. And that makes it even worse.

sabre great pyrenees

Dogs are entirely present all the time. They don’t understand our proclivity for absence.

They know when you are away from yourself. They feel your mind scuttling between tomorrow, yesterday, your problems at work, your problems at home, and all the other foolish places our thoughts go when we let them.

Dogs know when you aren’t here and now, and that worries them. If you aren’t here and now, where are you and how do they do their dogly duty sticking with you in a place that doesn’t exist?

It seemed to me and my distracted, anxious brain that the dog was unstoppable in her frenzied desire to jump on cyclists, chase rabbits, leap in horror at ducks, and hurl herself and her lolling tongue at potential petters.

When I saw a bicycle coming, I prepared myself.  When I spotted a rabbit, I girded my loins. Watch out. Be ready. Hold on

So the dog said, okay. I get it. I feel you tingling right through the lease and into my skin. You want turmoil? Can do.

And then I remembered.

I paid attention to the knotted set of my shoulders, the hardness in my hands, and most of all, my leaping, sizzling thoughts. Breathe. Sink into each step and be here with the earth, pacing her heartbeat into my own. Let that steady, slow, peace fill me and pour down the leash to the listening dog.

There is only this moment, this breath, this meditative footstep, and beside me, her toenails clicking.

The next cyclist passed without a flicker of an ear.

Now to carry Dog’s lessons when she isn’t there at the end of the leash to keep track of my mind.