Stop and Smell the Poop

Now that the snow has finally melted I like to take my dog out for a walk every morning.

He spent most of the winter convalescing from his back surgery and is still a little wobbly on his feet.

He was also quite inactive this winter so he put a few pounds on his already "sturdy" frame.

I'm just glad he's still with us.

When the girls get home from school, our lives are one big rush, with people coming and going all afternoon.   He usually just sits and watches and we head out and then come back again.   He doesn't complain, but he is usually ignored for most of the afternoon.   So, I like to give him a little time in the morning when things are quieter and we don't have to be somewhere "ten minutes ago".

His pace is slow, and he likes to stop every two feet to smell the grass, the leaves, and, of course, the poop.    After being covered with snow for so long, the world smells so good to him.   He smells it the same way I might smell a soup that has been simmering on the stove for a while, breathing in all the goodness.   Yes.  To him the smell of poop is olfactory goodness.   Eventually, we make our way to the bike path where we might encounter other people who are out and about exercising, etc.   We just plod along.

It's not unusual for someone to comment about his slow pace and say something like "not much of a cardio workout for you, huh?"  True.   Honestly, I don't walk my dog to get a cardio workout.   He is a shih tzu for goodness sake.   If I wanted a cardio dog, I would have bought a greyhound.    

Truth is, when he is "smelling the poop" it kind of forces me to stop and look around at how the earth is changing.   I watched as the snow receded bit by bit, and the ice finally melted on the pond.   I can see tiny buds slowly pushing their way up through the ground.   I notice a dead mouse who didn't make the great trek across the path.  You don't see these things when you are getting in your cardio.

I watch as a mother pushes her jogging stroller down the bike path and is multi-tasking, getting in her workout, getting fresh air for her toddler, and maybe texting from her iPhone.   The toddler might point to my pup and say, "Dog-gie" and the mother might smile and say, "Right.  That's a doggie." and off they go.    And more often than not I want to tell her to stop running.   Stop.   Take the kid out of the stroller and let him walk around.  Stop.  Let him see first hand the earth coming to life again.   Stop.   Let him pet the doggie.   Stop.

But I don't say anything, because that would be rude.

Later in the day, I am on one of my many trips back and forth to the high school and spot the most magnificent sunset ahead of us.  "Look!" I say to the girls "Look at the sunset!"   They don't even hear me.  They are talking about rehearsal, class, math quizzes, etc.   I keep driving because we do indeed have to be somewhere "ten minutes ago" but I know what I am missing.   And, I know the dog would get it.

Stop.