Lessons Learned as a Dog Walker

I sit in my almost empty house, most of my life possessions are now in Tacoma. My heart is full and yet it hurts so bad. My whole world and identity is tied to the world I created inside these walls. So many dinners and movie nights. So many legos and art projects. So much laundry and dishes. And the door is almost closed. I am not ready to say goodbye and yet I am so excited for what comes next. My life seems to be unfolding in front of me. There is no way I have time to process everything that I accomplished and all the challenges that went into this space, this place. My heart isn’t ready. So for this month, as I clean out my house I escape the emotions of the past by viewing the make believe world of holiday rom/coms.

To finish up this year, I am making my last post one of reflection. Not about my year of moving my studio. Not about planning a wedding or opening my world to the bonus kid. This post isn’t about my travels or my successes. My final post is about my time at the Tacoma Humane Society. My final post is about the unexpected community I found and the confidence, patience and pure love I have learned from the dogs. The heartache and growth. The early mornings and sunrises. The peacefulness and purpose that come from getting more when you give.

As most know, I am a volunteer dog walker in Tacoma. I walk dogs almost every Saturday and Sunday mornings, and regularly on Friday afternoons. Some might have noticed I have a way of incorporating my stories into most conversations. Not only is it one of my biggest highlights of the week, it is also something that I am not natural at and it takes a lot of learning and failing and learning and experimenting and learning. It has also been a much needed break from my world and the emotions behind it.

I wish I could make a timeline of my growth, but really it is more about consistency than perfection. My growth is slow moving and always challenging. One day I completely rock it. The dogs and I are a perfect reflection of volunteering and joyfulness. Other days I am nervous and anxious. I make little mistakes and forget things. I misread body language and slip on the floors. I get pulled hard and sprayed with shit. But then there are the days that I come in feeling like my world is upside down and the chaos in my life is keeping my feet from firmly planting. The dogs kiss me and love me. The dogs forgive their past to give me love. And in that, how can I walk out of this moment, this day not forgiving and calming my world. If the dogs can show me love, I realize I have so much love and grounding in me. They show me what strength looks like outside of my successes. They don’t care how many chin ups I did. They don’t care if I got my protein in. They don’t care if I cleaned my house. They care that I come into their kennel with the orange leash and a bag of hot dogs. They care that I give them a break from their kennel. They care that I show up. How simple, how simple is the little things we forget that matter the most.

These dogs have opened my world up. They have demanded my attention. Sometimes by jumping on me with excitement. Sometimes with their eyes that drive right into my heart. And sometimes with their fearfulness of everything and the trust they are willing to build with me. They have shown me how to slow down and be present. They have shown me how to take my time and read the energy and the space. They have shown me how to forgive and how to enjoy a mud puddle or a mid walk snuggle. Mostly they have shown me how giving a little is actually the biggest gift I can give myself. The patience I learn carries over into the other parts of my life. The joy they bring, keeps me uplifted the rest of the day. The love they give reminds me that my heart is a muscle that just wants to get bigger and stronger.

My weekend mornings are early and they can be long. Some days I get to take out about 10 dogs and go on longer walks. Other days I am walking 20 dogs and quantity wins over quality. Over the past two years, I have started to see my community a little differently. As I walk the “loop” I look at the person in the dumpster and say hi. I smile to the person that seems to be living in their car. I offer a listening ear to someone who couldn’t get their dog back because they had zero resources. The ability for these dogs to stretch me out of my comfort zone, to help me see a human that might be invisible to most is more powerful than any book I can read or pod cast I can listen to. The confidence they give me while I’m out walking is focus and compassion. It’s not about where I’m going but what I’m doing. And they make me proud of the person I am when I’m with them.

It is not just me, there is a whole community of us. A random group of people who come in every single day to make sure these dogs get out of their kennels. When I first moved to Tacoma I had no idea how to meet people. I work full time in Port Townsend and was missing someone to get a drink with or laugh with or ask for recommendations. When I started volunteering, I thought I was volunteering. I started dog walking as a way to be apart of my community and a way to get outside and be active. Little did I know, this group of dog walkers was going to be so much more. The friendships that have evolved walking the loop with a pair of dogs or hanging in the play yard. Those friendships grew and we have Friday night drinks and we have book clubs. We also have the occasional celebration or good bye party. We have a community of people who really enjoy each other. I am so thankful for the support and connection I get from this group.

I spend a lot of my free time at the humane society. I love being there in the community and with the dogs. When I move outside of the big picture, when I put my blinders on for a few hours. Life isn’t that complicated. Life isn’t as hard as I thought it was. For those few hours, life is simple and focused. There is a dog walking with you that is having the best moment of their life. There is a friend in the play yard who asks how you’re doing. There is kennel aide who says “I got you” when they see you struggle. There is this whole space where everything just works, not always perfectly but with a support system that doesn’t seem to let you fail. I have found my place for now and my time is only just beginning.