It was a chilly morning. Spring is trying to squeeze through the chill of winter but the unseasonably cold air pushes it back. Chino however, has no awareness of the seasons, past or present. With the leash clipped onto his purple collar we begin our morning walk. Actually I would call it more a stop and start experience. Chino has three speeds. Stop, Sniff and Full Speed Ahead.
Every leaf distracts him. He is caught in the moment of movement and then suddenly without warning he sits down, back straight and simply looks at something. I follow his eyes to see what is he looking at but I can’t always see what he sees. It seems to me sees beyond the veil of the world that I look at and that which is invisible to me catches his attention. He becomes so still.
I wait. I am patient. At least I try to wait patiently, and then, softly, not wishing to force a human rhythm on this new being I say, Come Chino.
On this particular morning, for the very first time he stopped in the middle of the road and did a little poop. I mentally noted that means I have to bring a plastic bag with me next time. Turning round he looked carefully at this tiny sausage shape and then bent down to sniff it. I forced myself to remember that this is what dogs do but on raising his head I saw he had a tiny little bit of poop on the end of his nose.
Oh good grief. What do I do now? If I try to take it off, who would I be taking it off for? Certainly not Chino. He is not at all concerned. In actual fact it seemed to me that having a tiny bit of poop on the end of his nose added to the joy of the walk.
So realising Chino was simply being who he is, I too ignored the addendum, hanging off the end of his nose and continued to enjoy our walk.