When my boyfriend moved in with us, he brought his little dog, Mickey. Mickey is about 8 lbs., 10″ tall, and doesn’t take no for an answer. A miniature dachshund with a big attitude, he’s tasked with teaching me how to slow down.
When I take Mickey for walks, he goes at his own pace and he rules the road. Any tugging on my part is rewarded with a staunch, dogged (no pun intended) resistance. He’ll put his head down as if to say, “I’m in charge here, lady. Don’t even think we’re moving yet.” As a doer with many tasks to complete, this drives me crazy. Does he not know all that’s on my list?
But after a minute or two of wondering why he must smell every single blade of grass, I look up and around. I see leaves blowing off of trees, hear birds chirping, and smell the coming of Fall. Sometimes patience is taught by the most unlikely of characters; in this case, he’s known all along what he’s here to do.