Why Can't You Walk Like a Normal Person?

When I take my dog for a walk, I can’t wait for the moment when we finally find our flow and rhythm, and she walks by me without tugging and pulling on the leash. It’s the highlight of my walk and often a day. That’s when I praise her. She is a good girl. But sometimes, as soon as we develop the speed and I am ready to roll, she decides to roll in the grass on the side of the road. That’s when I scold her. Why can’t you walk like a normal person?

As soon as I formulate the question, I realize the absurdity of my reaction. First of all, rhetorical questions? Really? Secondly, a normal person? She is a dog. Rolling in grass, tracking, trailing, sniffing other dog’s urine, and chasing squirrels are her ideas of a perfect walk. It’s her normal and she needs it, being a young and active dog. Why do I insist that she behaves like a human? Is my brisk walk slash exercise, head filled with thoughts slash worries a better idea of a perfect walk? No it isn’t. But it would be so convenient, if she walked my way, wouldn't it? Especially when I am pressed for time or in need of a little cardio exercise before sitting down in front of the computer. And so, she is a good girl when she behaves like me, or like it is convenient for me, but I scold her when she does her own thing.

My reaction to my dog’s behaviour on our walks made me think about my reactions to other people’s behaviour. How easy it is for me to approve of behaviour of think-alikers, whose needs and behaviour overlap with mine. Being in sync with others is a perfect walk in the park. The problem begins when people around me want to do things differently, because they are different and because their needs differ, of course. How often do I judge them according to my standards?

Unfortunately, too often. I praise my sons when they read books in their downtime, but I view their hours of gaming with friends as a waste of time, even if they enjoy connecting with their peers. I am all nods of approval when we play a Monopoly with my family, but when they want to veg out in front of TV, I call them couch potatoes, even if perhaps a movie would be a better way for them to decompress.

Luckily, every time I take my dog for a walk, I get a solid reminder how absurd, limiting and unfair it is to measure everyone with the same measure. After all, we are not all the same and my needs and my standards are just that: mine.