Paws and Reflect

Today is the day I promised Bella we would go for a mile walk in the early morning, right after my alarm goes off. No shower, no breakfast, no scrolling on the phone. Brush teeth, pee, put on workout clothes (they make it feel official), collar & leash – check, out the front door. No opportunity for excuses and it fits nice and neat into my schedule.

This week, I began adding extra activity to Bella’s schedule and these walks were part of the plan. July 4th is a difficult day for Bella. She is already a fearful dog who struggles with anxiety, but fireworks are her kryptonite. Adding a half hour of activity a day for the week preceding a scary event to your dog’s routine can help with their anxiety.

As usual, I had to rein Bella in the first half of the walk and remind her to heel. I’m a fast walker but she tends to run. Then she tires quickly and wants to drop and rest – or sniff the closest pile of poop for ten minutes.

Would you walk faster for a Scooby snack?

On the second part of our walks, Bella slows down considerably, and my inclination is to try forcing her into keeping up with me. There are many things to sniff along the nature preserve path where we walk, and Bella puts her nose to the ground more than Scooby Doo looking for a Scooby snack. I usually assume she is stalling and walking slow because she wants to stop and explore through scent. This is how dogs learn about their world and investigate who has walked the path before them, quite literally. But I’m on a timeline and have a long list of things to get done today.

Bella has other plans. She slows down even more and barely shuffles while looking at me with her dog whale eyes (look it up, super pitiful). I stop and double check the necessities. “Do you have to go potty? Poop?” My dog is that bitch, y’all. Yes, she goes on command. But not at that moment.

“What is wrong, sweet girl?”, I ask as I turn my body toward her and look into her eyes.

Bella’s watchdog mode: A wake-up call

Then it hits me. She feels sad for me. Again. And she’s checking me. Not checking on me. Checking me. I realized the other day that Bella has been in watchdog mode. I’ve really struggled the past six months as I’ve found out Bella has lymphoma, I was laid off from my job of 27 years, and I found out my mother-in-law has terminal cancer. During that, I wrote my first book and decided to start a business. A lot of emotion, anxiety, insecurity, and doubt threaten to overtake me on a daily basis.

The only thing I’ve ever known to do when I feel stress is move faster. It has been engrained in me from childhood. Overachieve. Keep going until you get it perfect. If you aren’t doing five things at once, you are slacking. Bottle your emotions up. Follow the rules, keep to the schedule. I’ve been practicing mindfulness and a gentler self-care for the past decade or so and I find that it’s easy to slip back into my old ways when I let the pressure cooker build up and ignore the things that I know will bring me relief.

The stress of the last six months combined with my predisposition to burn it at both ends and allow self-care to be the first thing to go was lost on me, but it wasn’t lost on Bella. She knew what I was sacrificing, and she was checking me on my bullshit.

I realized I had been skipping yoga sessions, meditating less, and neglecting my mindfulness practices compared to last year. My mental health was suffering as a result, and I could feel the emotional toll it was taking on me. Bella noticed too, and she was calling me out on it.

Some see a weed, others see a wish.

There was a refreshing breeze outside, which was lovely considering the heat we were experiencing this week. I closed my eyes and let the breeze brush across my face, and it came to me. I’d just written about it in my book. Stop forcing it. Keep Bella’s pace. Do some mindful walking.

I turned and calmly said to Bella, “let’s walk”. Not “Heel!” She started walking a little faster than her previous shuffle but not as fast as her heel, a slow pace for me. I could inhale and exhale deeply and even close my eyes for a few seconds and not go off course at the pace we were keeping. We were perfectly in sync. Rarely do I feel like I can remove Bella’s leash and she’ll stay next to me, but I could have in that moment. She was so calm, as was I.

We walked this way for a quarter mile, then Bella did something that I will always remember and that instantly made me cry. Most of the path we walk along is made up of dead weeds this time of year but there are small patches of dandelion survivors springing up from time to time. Though dandelions are known as an annoying yard pest, I also have fond memories of picking the tiny yellow flowers when I was a little girl and putting them behind my ear. My friends and I would think this was quite sophisticated. On special occasions, when I’d find the perfect flower, I’d present it to my mom (who has since passed on) and jokingly say, “for you madam”.

A lesson from my best friend

Some might read the paragraph above and interpret Bella’s weed sniffing as just that - dog nose, meet weed. But I was in my mindful state. I was connecting with the beautiful energy around me. Bella and I occasionally looked over at each other and never missed a beat in our steps. It was one of the best walks I’d ever been on with her. Not only did Bella give me a lovely reminder of my childhood, but she also literally pointed out to me that I need to stop and smell the, ah, flowers. We are working on our metaphors.

From now on I will let Bella have more of a say in the pace of our walks. She seems to know what she is doing out there. My schedule can flex 10-15 minutes here and there. And from this day forward I will begin adding yoga back to my weekly routine and meditating at least 2-3 days a week. I’ll do it for Bella but most importantly, I’ll do it for myself. Today is the day, I promise.