One positive
upshot to having a dog (and yes, this is another dog blog) is I get to see lovely morning or night skies I might have missed otherwise, along with
the general sights that go with being outdoors more often.
Walking the dog
is an exercise in mindfulness; something I discovered long ago when
looking after my mum’s dog Barley, who has a habit of snaffling up anything you
pass that vaguely fits the definition of edible. Like most dogs, his nose is
his main tool for catching up on gossip, and he'll happily scour the perimeter
of the park for any canine news, eating anything he finds on his travels if you let
him.
Consequently,
your attention's more focussed on here and how than usual and you get to see much more of what’s around you. My dog Elwood’s eating habits are similar to
Barley's except he’s possibly slightly more discerning, so my eyeline’s allowed to be cast higher than ground level at least every few minutes. If it’s
early or late I get the benefit of being the only one about, which is always
preferable, and there’s so much to take in. Even the weather seems more palatable at those times, rain or not. Everything feels
fresher, and if it’s nighttime the moon stands out.
It’s like being
let in on a loosely kept secret. The only catch is every so often I have to
pick up dog shit. If that’s the one sour note to the proceedings I can probably
cope with it, though if I start bagging it up when I’m dogless I hope someone
stages an intervention; there’s foraging and then there’s being Howard Hughes.