I don't know when the last time I took the dogs on a walk three days in a row. It might have been last summer. At the beginning of our walks, Oskar stays very close to me. He never goes ahead more than a couple of feet and will frequently stop and turn around, waiting for me to 'catch up'. This is accompanied by a very specific look. To anyone else, this is a look of incredibly happiness, in his dopey, tongue-wagging way. I interpret it as an expression of the sadness. The type that laces a moment of pleasure that you know will be taken away from you. It is as if he is looking at me, trying to figure out my motive. Why so many walks lately mom? As though he doesn't trust all this recent kindness. As if I'm being too nice. I am fully aware that I am projecting my own guilt and that he probably is just wondering why I don't start walking faster. I need to get over that.
It has been really lovely, our short little walks. I have noticed that when I follow their lead; where to go, for how long, and how fast-the walks are pretty brief. It is also hot right now - at least, for a someone in a fur coat - so they know when they are done. They also know their way home (at least Oskar does.) I had always wondered about this. I sort of assumed that if left to their own devices they could find their way home, but actually knowing the way seems different. There is something instinctual about returning to safety, to comfort, and so they do.
This is a nice mindset with which to start the school year: not to impose limits on myself and the kids that restrict our exploration of a topic. That is, trusting that when given the freedom to move at will, at one's own pace, we will all end up at home-and in good time.
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