Walking the Dog in Rain and What It Gives Back

I had just put my shoes on when it started to rain. Not the kind to come and go, a quick shower, but the type of rain that settles in for the long haul. I glanced at Maisie. She glanced back. The leash was already in her mouth.

There was a time that I would have waited it out. I would have checked the radar, refreshed the weather app, and negotiated with the sky. But dogs don’t check radars. They just know it’s four thirty, and four thirty means a walk.

And so, we went.

The first block is the hardest and so is dealing with the rain that’s seeping through your collar, the weight of your dripping pants, and the choice to go out in the rain. But by the second block, you no longer think about it. You’ve stopped resisting the rain and accept that you are just a person walking a dog.

Maisie is not a rainy day dog. If anything, she slows down more than she usually would. The rain doesn’t stop her from sniffing every post and bush. She walks with the same slow attentiveness that she would on the dry pavement and so I went with her. The world when it’s wet, I think, smells richer. More like itself. And she always runs through it with the same steady focus.

It really feels good to stay active and enjoy a walk. I know it is good for me and I can do it when I want. Even if it is raining, I know I can finish it. And that I can stay active and healthy. I don’t have to fight myself to walk outside or to get it to get my shoes. I just get to be active and able to walk whenever I want. There is nothing holding me back.

I assumed I would be obligated to do it. But I was completely wrong. It gives me a reason to get up and do things. Without it, I would feel even less motivated and pushed.

Other walkers and their dogs walked by and we all smiled and nodded. We looked at eachother and knew we were all here keeping our commitment to stay active.

Once we started heading back, I stopped caring about the rain. My sleeves were all wet and dripping and my hands were all cold but I wasn’t paying attention to the rain because I was thinking about other things. The things I could think about when not on the walk. The rain didn’t matter because we were just walking.

That’s what I keep coming back to. Each day does not call for grand gestures or big decisions. Each day does ask you to show up for the small, steady things, the things that don’t suspend for the weather. Most days, if you do, they give you something back. Not happiness exactly. More like the calm feeling of having done what the day required. Of having been present. Maisie shook herself off in the entryway, spraying water across the floor and the wall, and my legs. I got a towel. She wagged. The rain kept falling outside, and it didn’t matter anymore. We were home.