Falling Behind

Happy October Friends!

This is one of my favorite months. Mornings are cool on my paws, but by afternoon, the sunshine warms my coat. Big oaks shoot down acorns like pellet guns for eager squirrels, and evenings creep in early — often before I’ve finished my after-dinner patrol.

October is funny that way – both hurried and hushed. Weekends roar with visitors from the big town, cars piled high with apples, pumpkins, and hay bales, only for the streets to fall quiet again midweek. Farmers follow a different rhythm: fields grow inch by inch under patient hands, yet when harvest comes, their work bursts forward, rumbling through the night and leaving the morning air sharp and crisp. Time seems to stretch and snap back all at once.

With all this paradox swirling around me, I needed to curl up on my cushions and think this all through. As my mind began to drift, I could hear squirrels rustling nearby — some frantic, some leisurely — each with their own rhythm. Similar to the trees, that let go of their leaves in their own time.

All that slow-and-steady push and pull reminded me of when I trotted alongside my hooman in the Oktoberfest 5K. My first big race. I was so excited that I watered just about every tree in the park. The music thumped, the energy crackled, and I stood side-by-side with my pack, unsure what to expect. The countdown began: 3…2…1…GO!

Some hoomans shot out of the gate like greyhounds, their long legs eating up the track. Since I’m a terrier-beagle-blue-heeler kinda dog, my legs moved, but I wasn’t covering much ground. My hooman seemed fine with the racers ahead, and soon we settled into a steady jog.

As the miles went by, I noticed that some pups slowed to a walk, then picked up again once they caught their breath. No two strides looked the same. Hoomans on the sidelines barked, “Keep going!” and “You’re doing great!” — which made my tail wag. I realized then that we’re all in the race together, no matter the pace. Each of us found our own rhythm and our own way to finish. No one was “late” just because they weren’t leading the pack.

I think that is October’s lesson for us, too. It’s okay to move at our own speed. Not racing to keep up. Not holding back when we’re ready to leap. Just trusting our stride, savoring our season, and remembering that what’s right for me may not be right for the dog beside me.

So friends, as we wag our way into October, let’s not worry if we fall a bit behind. Instead, let’s take cues from Mother Nature and the racecourse. Trust that our pace is the right one. Some days bounding, some days strolling, sometimes paw-sing for a good sniff — but always remembering: the goal isn’t to keep up with the pack. It’s to enjoy the run, the season, and the moment. 🍂🐾

Thanks for trotting along on my canine adventures. I’ll bark back atcha in November!

Your friend,