Saturday, March 16, 2013

IF I DIDN'T HAVE A DOG...

If I didn't have a dog, on a day like this I might be sitting warm all day in front of a fire, beside a large window, admiring the outdoor beauty from inside my house. If I didn't have a dog, I might believe that, for my age, this would be the perfect way to live, in warmth and comfort, protected from the elements.
But I have come to realize, if I didn't have a dog and the responsibilities therein required by that partnership, I would not have been a witness to so many things I have enjoyed in every season, especially in the darkness of some nights and the very early mornings. 
I might not have seen the brightness of the morning star, or heard the morning birdsong bursting out at the beginning of a brand new summer day... I might not have gazed into the stars against the velvet darkness of a winter sky, or breathed the pungent night-time smell of fallen autumn leaves and ripening vegetation in my woodland...
I might not have seen the big full moon that dipped the brightness of its face into the waters of my creek, or heard an owl calling lonely on a cold November night... I might have missed the moon that somehow found its way through thick clouds of a midnight snow storm and turned the world to sequinned magic... I might not have stood to watch a jet trail arcing skyward in the west at dusk, picking up the neon colors of a hidden sunset... We saw it all, my dog and I, and more!
If I didn't have a dog, I might have been surprised at the peaceful feeling, walking through the woods today, surrounded by fresh snow that draped itself on every tree and every branch and every twig... And no, without a dog I might not have had the comfort of this well-trod path my dog and I created day by day, with our own six feet--his four and my two...
If I didn't have a dog, how could I have known about the deep and muted quiet of this private sanctuary, untouched by all but this one woman and her dog who are unafraid to venture here on such a wintry day...
If I didn't have a dog, I might not have a full appreciation for the seasons; ALL of them. I might never have discovered that this woodland has its special beauties during every time of year...
But today is for the winter; today is for the here-and-now. Daily walking with my dog, and the dogs that have preceded him, have led me to an understanding of the importance of that here-and-now.
In the unknown time allotted to each human being, the only guarantee is NOW; this day that lies around you. You have lived through yesterday, and it is gone. This is today. No matter what your age and circumstance, you cannot know how many more tomorrows will be given to you.
A fine gift it has been, this day today, and walking with my dog has taught me not to let it slip away unseen and unappreciated.

(Come along now, Mick, the daylight's fading and it's time to go inside and appreciate the here-and-now of dinner with your people, and a quiet evening for the three of us together).