the great unending adventure

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It never fails. Each and every time Bruno is given the opportunity to partake in an afternoon of adventure and discovery it is met head-on with the zeal and excitement of  his very first time. It starts with anticipation and heightening anxiousness. His powers of observation are unfounded. Every behavioural hint of our departure is read and calculated. We are assessed and conclusions are drawn. Once these “conclusions” are established Bruno puts himself in gear to ensure his participation and make us aware of his voluntary demand to be included at any cost. His determination is as strong as his perception.

Each and every moment is drunk in and life is lived to the fullest. No scent is left uninhaled and no angle of the sun is lost on him. He stretches out with complete abandonment and takes in his surroundings like it could be the last seconds of his life. No opportunity is left unfound or passed by. The leash is his only tether, and he refuses to accept its oppressive nature, using it to its full extension every time.

There are many ways a person can respond to this – one of them is no way at all. We can measure a dogs intelligence and say it knows no better and is merely a robotic opportunist. It uses what resources it has and makes it work. Wash, rinse and repeat. I like modelling it on the idea of interpreting it as un unending desire for knowledge, discovery and a lust for life.

Shit if only I could be so excited to go to the same park and smell the same poles and run the same runs and see the same sights over and over again. We all get so jaded and unimpressionable as we grind out the living hours don’t we? I hear him now barking in the background like its the first bark he has ever barked.

Should I yell at him to stop or celebrate with him?

One day, I will be crying in a diaper wishing the only thing I could do was to walk of my own free-will upon  the grass and feel the sunlight on my face. Time is eating away at all of us and we need to make everything more about celebrating than complaining or wishing.

One thing I know for sure is when the day comes that Bruno breathes his last gasp he will do it with all the zeal he can muster and will go out knowing he lived life as hard and fast as he could have. He sniffed everywhere he could. He barked as loud, ran as fast, ate as much, and loved as much as was dogly possible.

When I am snivelling like a two-year-old deep in the grief of his passing I sure hope I can find comfort in knowing I was there to give him the opportunity to make the best run of his life possible and maybe try to do the same more often than not with my own.

 

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