Long Walks

You must be thinking I'm posting for one of those personal ads for a date, the ones where the lonely heart writes that he enjoys long walks on a quiet beach, nights at home spent watching Casablanca, etc. You don't have to worry, I'm not looking for my special someone. Certainly, not yet. After all, I only just turned three a month ago, and I think there is still plenty of time for me to settle down. Besides, the only long walks I like to take are with my dad, and he and I mostly watch either The Colbert Report, or baseball now that the season is well under way. I have to watch out for him too because he is a Yankees fan who lives in the heart of Red Sox Nation, but that's a story for another time.

I like having my dad around, even though he isn't too keen on spending countless days at home. I know he will find a job one of these days, so that's why I encourage him to take long walks with me, like this morning at around 7:30. I heard the birds chirping away outside, and thought it would be a great morning for a walk. So I walked over to dad's side of the bed and laid my head down next to him and gave him my best stare. He got my message in a few minutes and off we went. I know it helps dad clear his head when we walk, and besides, it's the least I can do to help. I also think dad doesn't mind staying out with me longer, especially now that the weather is much warmer.

Truthfully, I don't do this solely for dad's benefit. I happen to like that he lets me take my football with me when we go for our walks, and eventually I get him to throw the ball a few times. My mom thinks this encourages my obsession with my ball, even though I don't think I'm overly obsessed, well maybe just a little. Case in point, this morning on our walk I kind of got a little distracted with all of the different smells I was investigating. There was goose poop, rabbit poop and everything was still wet from the night's rain. As you can imagine, the combination of all of these smells send my retriever olfactories into overdrive. Before I could even say "rut roh," dad said to me, "Harry, where's your ball? Get your ball, go find it!" Boy, did I snap out of it fast, but then I had no idea where I left my ball. I was running around, looking back at dad for help, and all he could do was laugh. I eventually found it, without any assistance from the supposedly more evolved one of the species. In the end, I did my good deed because dad got a really good chuckle out of the whole experience, and that's what our purpose in life is when you stop and think about it. You create these little moments of happiness seemingly out of the mundane, and it's those little moments of happiness that help lift our heads up from the ordinary and let us glimpse at our horizon.