sit. stay.

I've always felt that commitment is not for the faint of heart.

On my morning walk with Daws (my dog, in case you haven't been following), I stopped into my local coffee shop. In doing so, I had to tie up the old girl to the fence outside. Now, depending on her mood, she sometimes waits patiently - other times not so much. When I came out she was waiting and watching me. I was holding my steamy, giant coffee in one hand, so I had to untie her leash with my lone right hand. I looked at her and told her to stay put while she was free of her leash. She sat there looking pretty all the while working on her jedi-mind trick - staring over her left shoulder at the crusty, dry pizza crust left on the curb. I realized in that moment that the younger-version of Dawson would have never, ever stayed still for me, waiting so well behaved. Especially while being taunted by her favourite thing in the whole wide world: food.

Some people think it's a bit morbid that I spend more time lately thinking about the limited time we have left together. She's definitely on the downward slope in life (but she still can keep up on a run like she is a pup). But, in that cold, crisp moment this morning it was then that I realized what Dawson has taught me about commitment.

Patience and mutual respect.

Because the two of us have shared these feeling with and between each other for twelve long years, I can honestly say she's a better dog now than she ever was before. I mean this dog was nothing short of insane and disobedient for 50% of her life. But in many moments lately, like the time together this morning, I realized it took a dog to prove to me that it ain't such a bad thing to sit and stay.