The joy that comes from dogs at play. . .

This may seem like a “light-weight” entry today but I am frequently entranced by the dogs next door to me.  Both are big; one is a blonde Lab and the other a Wheaton Terrier.  They play like children.  Perhaps better than children.  I never see them fight.  I sit in my study most days for a few hours and they romp right outside my window.  Brandy and Hunter are their names.  They seldom bark unless someone is going by their house on foot.  And then it’s not a ferocious bark, but much more like “I see you out there.”  There is an invisible fence around the yard so passers-by have nothing to fear.

I’ve never personally owned a dog.  Our family had one for a short time when I was young but it was hit by a car that never even stopped when the yelping began.   It was a sad evening and I never really wanted to experience that again. The thing that I so appreciate about the neighbor dogs is that they have a great time racing around their big yard with not a care in the world.  And they stop to acknowledge every one of us who passes by.  They are great role models. Really!

People could learn a lot by watching their family dogs (or the neighbor’s dogs); how they treat each other, the attention they pay to each other, and the joy they obviously have with each other every time they are allowed out of the house.  It’s as though their every movement is in support of each other.  Every time I walk by, which is almost every day on my morning walk, one will notice me first, usually Hunter, the Lab.  He will run toward me barking, looking over his shoulder all the way to the end of the lawn to see if Brandy is coming too.  Then she races to catch up.  It’s a game they play and I join in the fun by pretending to scold them.

But what’s my point you might be asking?  They are showing me, showing any one who is watching, what living in the moment looks like.  Now is all they know. They respond to others in the only time they know: this moment.  They don’t hold grudges.  They lovingly greet you when you come home.  They aren’t poised to punish you for past times that they might have been ignored.  The past doesn’t exist for them any more than it should exist for us.

If we opted to live from moment to moment, letting the past be past, we’d enjoy great slices of peace and tons of joy throughout the day.  I was reading something earlier this evening that echoed this thought.  Peace is all we can know if we keep our feet in this moment and no other.  That’s what Hunter and Brandy do.  That’s what most animals do.  That’s what we did too as babies. Now that we are adults we can make the decision to do it by intent.  And it can become our default position in time.

I’m willing to work on this.  Are you?