My Life with Spencer

most mornings spencer and i take a 4 mile walk. we drive into town, park in front of the village cheese shop, say hello to the breakfast club (a group of locals who gather there for coffee) and off we go.

it’s interesting that we could walk anywhere but choose to stroll the same route day after day. the first mile is south towards the beach followed by a mile or so west, either on the beach or street depending on weather and tide, then another mile north, and the final leg back east towards town again where we re join the group.

the loop is all neighborhood two way streets, paved and smooth the way roads in suburbia should be. there is a third ‘lane’ of grass and trees, having the street as one border and the tall shrubs that give the home owners privacy on the other. it’s a perfect path for sir spencer. he’s off leash, stays in his lane and ambles along; marking, sniffing, and picking up a stick which he will inevitably carry for most of the walk; always happy to bring it back to the breakfast club to engage anyone who wants to participate in tug of war or fetch.

i see the same people walking or running each day and acknowledge them with a nod or a smile. many of the same cars and trucks pass me by and there is a honk of the horn or some other friendly exchange. it’s all pleasant and seems like a different universe from the one i inhabited the past 20 years; the isle of manhattan.

I think what resonates with me the most however during that hour or so is just how important this ritual is for both of us. Spencer gets exercise, a healthy dose of nature, and his friends at the cheese shop. for me, it’s hard to articulate; i think the best way i can describe it is that it puts everything into context for me; providing clarity for whatever is going on in my life.

when i’m travelling, i miss the walks. upon my return, i eagerly anticipate being able to get up the next morning, open the back door to my SUV where the back seat awaits and up he goes. the Orvis ’sling’ protects the leather and gives spencer a comfortable place to sit or extend his face out the back window for the good smells. he knows where we are heading, no words are necessary and his eyes tell the story; full of joy and excitement for what is probably his favorite part of the day (with the exception of breakfast and dinner).

we walk in harmony. he’s an extension of me. when he lags behind the instinct is to catch up; when he’s far ahead he waits for me. the push/pull is natural, not dictated by commands; only a primal need for him to explore but be close enough to feel safe and the energy between us. sometimes i get deep in thought, and by the time i re examine the surroundings, we are half way done. it’s not a dream or a trance, just letting go of space and time to be present and aware in a non linear way. i love those moments.

i guess to most it’s just walking the dog. i don’t know, for me it’s become something much more.