I spent most mornings alone before we got our dog Toby. I get up an hour before Anne, and used to spend the time sitting on the couch, drinking coffee and reading before my morning run. It was my favorite time of the day, because it was all mine.
Now, I share the time with Toby. We wake up together, in the dark, and slip quietly out of the room. Toby sits by the couch, waiting for me to make my coffee, but the second I’m finished he stretches out, arches his back and waits for me to come lie down next to him. It’s our daily ritual, and the kind of thing I never thought I would do before he came into our lives.
Outside for his morning walk, we share a different sort of intimate moment. The streets are dark, quiet and empty, and we walk them in silence. Toby sniffs around and I wait patiently for him to find the perfect spot to go to the bathroom. After enough mornings like this, we know each other quite well – I lead Toby to his favorite spots, and he follows me, poop bag in hand, to the trashcan when he’s done. Perfect harmony between man and dog.
As the rest of the world wakes up, and other priorities come into the picture throughout the day, it becomes more difficult to appreciate the time I spend with Toby. I get impatient at his incessant sniffing around outside. I have less time for tug-of-war or rubbing his belly. Not now and come on become a much larger part of my vocabulary.
Whatever else I’m doing feels more important than paying attention to the dog.
Of course, deep down I know I’ll miss my mornings with Toby far more than the other things I’m rushing to get to. But I convince myself that there’s always tomorrow.
This past month, we celebrated Toby’s first birthday, a milestone that reminded me how fleeting our time is together. A meaningful chunk of his life is now over. Golden retrievers live to be roughly ten years old, and that’s all the time we get – assuming we get that much. It’s a difficult thought to sit with, but true nonetheless for every single dog owner out there.
Given that reality, the most important thing I can do with Toby is to be present.
Before going to sleep each night, the Stoic philosopher and Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius had a practice of tucking his kids into bed, and reminding himself to appreciate the moment:
“Don’t rush this. This might be the last time you do this. It’s not guaranteed that either of you will make it through the night.”
He recognized that spending time with his children was important, and something he would take for granted if he wasn’t careful. As Ryan Holiday says about the practice:
“There will come a time in your life – hopefully just because [your kids] are a little older, but it could be for more tragic reasons – when you would give literally anything for the opportunity to do that one more time.”
I like to think that my priorities always align with my values and what is most important to me, but dog ownership has made it clear that, despite my best efforts, I don’t always succeed. Reflecting on our relatively short time together helps to remind me that spending quality time with Toby is an urgent priority.
– Emmett
What I’m Reading:
The Case For Bad Coffee – Keith Pandolfi
“Cheap coffee is one of America’s most unsung comfort foods. It’s as warming and familiar as a homemade lasagna or a 6-hour stew. It tastes of midnight diners and Tom Waits songs; ice cream and cigarettes with a dash of Swiss Miss. It makes me remember the best cup of coffee I ever had. Even though there was never just one best cup: there were hundreds.”
Expectations and Reality – Morgan Housel
“We spend so much effort trying to improve our income, skills, and ability to forecast the future – all good stuff worthy of our attention. But on the other side there’s almost a complete ignorance of expectations, especially managing them with as much effort as we put into changing our circumstances.”
What I’m Listening To:
Rory Vaden on Building Your Brand and the Perfect Book Title – Elevate Podcast
“Find your uniqueness so you can exploit it in the service of others.”