The Morning Treat and What Routine Gives Us Both

Something strange happens at my house every day at six forty five. My dog June lays patiently by the counter waiting for treats. I can say she does not yelp and she does not scratch. Instead she appears every day at the same time while I’m making my coffee and she waits patiently. You’ll find her body angled toward the cupboard, eyes glued on the bag, and meticulously tracking my movement.

When I pull out a biscuit and hand it over, she does her usual evening ritual and takes it ever so gently.

Neither of us have formally planned this out, yet a gentle unspoken understanding caused it to happen. The first time it happened I took note of it, so I was not surprised to see her waiting the next morning.

Once a dog’s pattern of behavior is interrupted, boredom hits. She can sense the difference between a Tuesday and a Saturday even if no one speaks a word. She takes note of every minute detail and is on high alert when things aren’t right.

Clinging on to sameness is often associated with sadness and this notion has been placed on dogs many times in the past. While it may seem sad from the outside, it seems dogs value trust and reliability far more than humans, and that is worth finding joy in.

Routine can give hope. It does help. When you get up, there will always be a new morning. The bowl will be filled, and the walk will always happen. Most importantly, the person will always return.

I have learned that thinking about myself in a non spontaneous way helped give me a better view of my own systems in place and when partnered with June, I instinctively set die. It was a comfort to use the same system to operate with the same coffee, some food. I drive in loops around the park while checking up on her. I drive in loops while checking up on her. Long story short, I do systems.

Unlike constraints anchors are a pure form of novelty, and June does not need anchors to help keep her calm, just a loose set of constraints to help keep her calm. While doing that, I have managed to set a rhythm for myself, the own rough sturctured pathway is a gift and my sanity keeps me in the positive.

Time is constant but when the world is fleeting, the news and my work schedules are changing, the plan for the day is set. When I reach for the treat, the same soothing feeling is present when she does.

She doesn’t know she’s giving me something. She is aware this is how the day starts, and that is all that matters.

I feel like that’s the present ritual gives the two of us. Not thrill or anticipation, but the certainty that something small and reliable is there. That there’s an outline to the day that we can both count on. That even if everything else is in flux, this one moment will come again tomorrow, constant and unchanging.

As June finishes her treat, she finds her spot near my feet while the coffee is brewing. The light of the morning is pouring through the window as it always does. For a couple of still moments, the world is as it should be.