Stop and Smell the Horses

Owning a puppy has taught me many things – patience, creativity, patience, selflessness, empathy, patience. More importantly however, my puppy has taught me how to stop my busy life and just enjoy the moment.

Today started off at 2:30am when Zoe wanted to take her first pee break. This was after two hours of being asleep, making it three hours since I first attempted to get her to go to sleep. The cat woke us up at 5am, demanding to be feed. I managed to quiet the herd, get the puppy back to sleep, to wake up at 6. My morning was chaotic – separating a fighting dog and cat; feeding both animals; supervising multiple pee breaks (that apparently were play breaks); attempting to shower with a meowing cat on the counter and a whining dog looking over the edge of the tub, offended that I would dare take a 10 minute shower – you know, the usual.

At 7am I began attempting to get Zoe to evacuate all nasties before she would be locked in a cage for five hours until I could get home at lunch. We walked and paced. I yelled as she rolled in the dirt or went a little too far down the driveway. Walked some more. Pulled weeds out of her mouth while also diverting her attention from the hopping toad (who I am sure will never thank me for saving his life multiple times this morning).

After a half an hour of trying to get her to do her business with no avail, she plopped down in the deck, mesmerized by the horse in our neighbor’s yard. Already wanting to scream in utter frustration and terrified of being late for work, I looked down, sat, and watched with her.

The horse beautifully ran across the pasture, trotting gracefully. All the muscles in his body and the wind blowing through his mane showed the true beautiful of the creature. I listened as the birds were chirping and the wind blew peacefully through the trees. The smell of the morning dew brought back an innocence of sorts, childhood memories of an easier time.

And for a moment, nothing in the world seemed to matter.

It didn’t matter if I got to work early or a few minutes late. It didn’t matter that my work life is in constant distress or that the story of my life wasn’t going according to plan. The world’s imperfections just did not matter.

I sat with my dog and enjoyed the beauty of that moment, feeling overwhelmingly like there was something bigger than my small little world. A reminder, almost, that no matter what I do today, the sun will come up tomorrow and the life will continue as beautiful, graceful, and eloquent as it was the day before.

I hugged my puppy, thanking her for that reminder. My little Zen master with orange freckles then looked up at me for a second, as if to say she loved me, before she went bouncing through the yard.

I wish we all could have a little Zoe in our lives to remind us of what’s important.