My son’s dog likes to remind me that there is always a place for enthusiasm. We think of her as a puppy, but we recently noticed the gray coming in on her chin which is supposed to be a sign of maturity. When she likes something or someone, she really likes them and everyone knows it. And she likes a lot of things.
I enjoy a walk around the neighborhood to get fresh air, exercise and ideas from other people’s gardens. (And it is a good time to think.) I let her come with me. (I do not take her for walks, let me be clear. Because she is not my dog.) She knows she is only allowed to go if she behaves herself. She must start by waiting calmly while I put on my shoes. Far enough away that I can get my shoes on without conking her in the head with my foot when I raise and lower it. Or trying to give me kisses when I bend down to get my shoe. Then she is supposed to calmly let me put on her harness without licking me. Then she is supposed to go calmly to the door and wait to the side while I go out first. Lastly she is supposed to wait calmly while I shut the door.
But she just really likes to go for walks and she wants to make certain that I know how happy it makes her that I am preparing for a walk. Even if this delays the start of the walk while she gets hold of herself.
It is good to have a constant reminder that life is better when you have things that make you feel all wiggly. There is plenty on the mature side of life that draws the enthusiasm right out of a person. It should just help us to enjoy things more, but for too many people these things seems to mean the preclusion of enthusiasm entirely. I think maybe I should send them on a walk with my son’s dog. She’d love to go.
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