My dog, my Guru
It’s 6:30 am.
We’re on the trail.
Are we early enough to avoid people and other dogs?
Already, I’m noticing my nervous system getting activated.
We just need to make it over the boardwalk.
I’d prefer not to be wading thigh deep in the muck of skunk cabbage swamp.
This is our first forest walk of the summer.
Besides the possible dog walkers, wild animals live here.
Black bears, coyotes, foxes, deer, owls, hawks….
I can feel the pull on Zigi’s leash. He’s nervous too.
But he’s sniffing, that’s a good sign.
I’m aware that my state of being influences his.
I need to be the “alpha” here, at least for this moment of entry into the wild.
I change my intention.
What if I simply focus on my relationship with myself and my dog?
I consciously let go of my hiking goals.
As I do, I instantly feel my nervous system relax.
The words of our vet come to mind,
“He reacts because he’s scared.”
That makes sense. I can relate to that.
My youngest son and I rescued Zigi during the pandemic. He was 18 months old.
Zigi was a Covid puppy, isolated for the first year of his life and given up for adoption for the next six months.
He’s come a long way, yet new experiences continue to be challenging for him.
What if this walk is about honoring our safety?
When we reach our threshold, we’ll leave.
My heart is leading me now rather than my mind.
I’m more present for myself, my breath and my dog.
He’s sensitive to my energy and I’m sensitive to his.
We affect each other.
“I’m here with me as I’m here with you,”
a mantra of SomaSoul Somatic therapy.
Zigi is my real live walking stick.
His strength, agility and alertness offer me
protection and balance as we navigate the roots, rivers and hills
of the forest.
We toss the leadership baton back and forth according to need.
When he’s frightened, I take the lead.
When I’m not as quick as he is skipping over rocks,
He slows down.
“Zig, I’m not a dog, remember?”
I realize as we continue to walk, that I’ve been trying to train Zigi to be like our easy going, social dog who preceded him.
Can it be okay that he’s not?
He’s come into our lives for a different reason.
He has different needs and different gifts.
When he looks at us with those big brown eyes,
I feel the depth of his devotion and his gratitude.
We gave him another chance to love and to be loved.
I met a woman walking with her dog by a nearby lake recently.
I heard her call out to him.
“Is his name Krishna?” I asked her, “like Lord Krishna?”
“Yes! Of course!” she replied.
She named her dog after the Hindu god of
love, compassion and protection!
I see that I’m not alone in believing,
“My dog, my Guru.”