You don’t even notice it at first the way your dog lives. You’re too caught up in your own head. You’re checking your phone, responding to a message while mentally sorting your to-do list. Meanwhile, your dog is sitting there, watching you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.
And maybe you are. To them.
You clip on the leash and head out the door. You’re walking, but not really walking. You’re already thinking about work, or dinner, or the thing you forgot to do yesterday. But your dog? They stop to sniff every patch of grass like it’s new. They look up at you every few steps, like they’re checking to see if you’re with them, not just beside them.
You tug the leash. You want to move. But they’re not rushing. They’re fully here. You’re not.
You’ve Been Missing It
You didn’t mean to. You just got used to this low-level background hum of stress. Of thinking about five things at once. You learned to celebrate “being busy” like it’s some kind of badge. But when was the last time you actually felt present? Not distracted, not planning, not reacting just there.
Your dog, on the other hand, is a master of presence. Not because they’re trying. Because they don’t know any other way. They don’t multitask. They don’t hold grudges or rehearse arguments in the shower. They don’t worry about what’s happening next week. They’re right here belly to the ground, tail thumping, ears perked.
You realize you’re the one who’s behind. Not them.