Joy through the observation of dogs.

Living in the moment with Guillermo, my wisest teacher of joy.

The boat house roof shingles are hot to the touch but are needed after swimming in the 72 degree lake water. The boat house has a deck with folding chairs but the roof is more enticing for a girl who likes to sunbathe like a lizard on a rock. I shouldn't lay here like a lizard because of my fair skin but I ignore this and wrap the sun around me. I catch my breath after a long day of swimming. My towel soaking up the droplets of my knotted hair. I haven't been able to find my brush since last Thursday. My heart beams like the sun around me and I have just had a day that solidified its place into the top ten most joyful in my adult life.

Prior to drying off and being hugged by the sun, I was playing a game in the water with Guillermo where I dive down, collect rocks and then throw them near him from the granite shoreline. He would carefully watch the throw, jump into the water and try to catch the rocks before they sank to the bottom. We repeated this with sticks and his tennis balls. With each throw I was encouraging him to swim alongside me and every now and then I was lucky to swim underneath him, watching his four little legs kick in the water. He is pretty fast for such a little guy.

Every time I dove down to collect rocks, I would see bass or blue gill. A small snapping turtle was present as well and eyed me closely while I picked up rocks around it. In the back of my head I hoped it wouldn't get feisty and take a bite out of my big toe. To make matters better, Drew was participating in this game and I felt like we were kids. Goggles on, laughing, and just reveling in the pure joy shining from Guillermo with every leap he took from the granite into the crystal blue lake water. Our family in a bubble of joy.

We swam until the sun was long lost behind the clouds. Long enough for the shingles of the boat house roof to become cooler and long enough for me to fear my fingers would forever be pruny. With the sun disappeared behind the curtain of the Adirondack mountains, we made our way back to the house. I glance over at Guillermo prancing beside me with a smile on his face and water falling off of his black coat.  He leaves a trail of water on the rocks and I smile with him.  As we walk, I think about all my four legged friend has taught about joy this year.

Summer is the season for joy. Wildflowers blooming, dinner on the back patio with friends, warmer weather, ripe cherries, and camping trips.  In modern day wellness, there is a lot of talk about living in the moment to tune into joy. But sometimes life and our monkey minds makes living in the moment a bit more complicated. This summer in particular has been a strange one. In the moment joys being challenged by to-do lists and all sorts of things in and out of our control. Wildfires, extreme heat, intense rain, and prices that make you really break a sweat. It can be hard to absorb and receive joy when your mind is worried about the next thing or in survival mode.

On my walk from the lake to the house with Guillermo, I observe that he is really just reveling in the walk, just enjoying the moment with me from point A to point B. He is not thinking about the next tournaments, global catastrophes, or even what is happening later that evening here at the lake. He is glowing from the pure joy of the lake day with his people and now the simple walk back to the house. After the day we have had, he has indirectly taught me that joy comes from gratitude in us all taking the time to be together as a family.

It all began in March in the San Luis high desert mountains. Our group was on a meditative hike meant to be in silent revere to the forest, listening to the sounds around us. But Guillermo was zooming around in the melted snow and being utterly rambunctious… going absolutely bananas.  I still crack up thinking about how wild he was then because the silence grew into laughter, which I think we all found very meditative. Then there was his first ferry ride in Toronto, seeing Niagara Falls, or sniffing flowers at Mackinac Island.

I could share a hundred instances of Moe's infectious joy but like he is so in the moment constantly, I am in the moment here at Lake George taking in the joy like him and the sun that wrapped around me from the boat house roof.

As his stewards and guardians, Drew and I strive to give Guillermo a nurtured, safe, and active life. In return we get so much more. The loyalty, love, and joy that Guillermo gives back is truly remarkable. A dog's gift is that they teach you how to receive and feel love, no matter how stressful things get. This is because they know how to love above all else. They are always happy to see you, happy to move into a van, happy to go on that walk, all because they love you & consistently choose joy.

It isn't through grand gestures but simply by spending quality time together.

In his simplicity, I love the way his whiskers tickle my fingers when I give him water on a hike. I love how he locates the grassiest spot under the shade of two trees and enjoys only the treat given to him. No phone, no distractions. Just pure enjoyment and pleasure from the peanut butter treat. I love the way he zooms around tall grass and flowers when he is excited and I love the way he admires the waterfalls and parks we take him too. I love the way he knows his limits and I love how patient he is when we have a busy day. I love the way he rests his head on my lap when I am scared, frustrated, or sad, without judgement. I love the way he big stretches, and finds the breeze. Lifting his head, closing his eyes, and taking it all in. Drew and I have been carefully watching him, trying to mimic the way he goes about life.

The sun has long gone Westward for the day and I find myself sitting on the hammock with Guillermo lying with his head on my chest. I am humming his favorite songs (he loves Bob Marley & Dua Lipa...haha).

He is listening to the hum of songs I know he enjoys. As I gently swing back and forth, I look down at him. Without my phone and the distractions I am in the moment with him. It is just us in a reciprocity of joy. We stay like this while the sky turns from a yellow-blue, to a dark gray, the Moon making her re-appearance, marking the end of a joyful day.

I read lately that one day of a dog's life is equivalent to a week in a human's life. Being witness to Moe's joy has made me confident in choosing van life because every single day counts. Every day counts for him, for Drew, and for me. In observing dogs, they teach us to enjoy the moment wherever we are by returning to the small things and the gratitude that can be found all around us.