A dog’s life

We recently picked up a puppy. It was totally unplanned, really just a play of fate. On our way to Philadelphia, we stopped in Allentown to see my wife’s friend. It turned out that the friend was picking up two puppies out of a litter of six. Two of the other four were still available, and the rest is history.
We named him Gilbert, Gili for short. 吉利 (Gee-ly) means “lucky” in Chinese (there is even a Chinese car brand Geely). His breed is a “Chinese village dog” or “Chinese garden dog”, and his mom and dad actually came from China. Not only that, his dad was brought from Guilin, my wife’s birthplace. And he looks just like the dog from the computer game “Fable 2”, which we used to play together many years ago with much enjoyment. Speak about fate! He is a totally adorable and very naughty little creature.
Since I am stuck at home for 6 weeks recovering from surgery, Gilbert is my primary companion. My doctors recommended walking as much as possible to speed up the recovery, and walking the dog is a perfect opportunity. We go to a nearby trail and walk about 2 miles every day. During these daily walks, I realized that my little dog is teaching me something important about life. He is always on high alert. There are other people on the trail, other dogs, and so many things to explore. Our walks are like high-intensity interval training (HIIT). This means running like there is no tomorrow for a while, then taking a detour to smell the grass or to watch a bird or a plane flying by. Run again to chase a chipmunk or a squirrel, and stop again for another interesting smell or sound. Run circles around me for the fun of it, then stop to watch a person go by. He is endlessly curious and clearly enjoying himself.
This made me think of how much more complex we humans are. We want money and power, control, security, and approval. We want admiration, respect, and fame. We want our social circles. We want entertainment. We want things, so many different things. A new car, a new house, new clothes, new toys. In pursuit of all this, we forget how to simply enjoy life. We forget that we have a unique gift, a miracle, of seeing (and hearing, touching, and smelling) the world. We forget that the world is full of wonders. And the wonders are there if we get the things we want or do not. And they don’t have to be exotic or expensive. There is wonder in every leaf on a tree, every bird in flight, every sunrise or sunset. This is the lesson I learned from the dog.