Today my daughter and I took a very old dog on a lunchtime walk because her family was traveling for the day. When you walk a very old dog, you go very slowly. It was drizzling as we walked this slow journey, so the three of us looked pitiful--the black dog with shaking limbs and us shuffling in the mist.
My daughter pet her the whole time and encouraged her. We talked about aging and how it's hard to grow old. It's hard to think that one day, she was a bright, eager puppy and now, perhaps a decade later, she's barely able to stand on her own. But we can love her and give her treats and help her into her special spots.
I loved our rainy, slow walk together. We'll return in the evening and the three of us will care for each other again.
The slow walk on this otherwise busy day (what day isn't a busy day?) made me consider pausing and walking alongside others much more deliberately and carefully. It takes longer to love and give treats and help others into their special spots, but it's the best kind of walking there is.
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