The time is always now, I told her.  The present, that’s all we have.  She turned and looked at me and then her attention went back to the road ahead of us, to the plants at the side of the path, to winding her way through the other walkers, to taking me where we both wanted to go.  To here.  To now.

But she’s always known that.  It isn’t she who needs a reminder.  It is I.  For I am only  a human.  She, after all, is a dog, so she lives in the moment.  She doesn’t rue the past.  She doesn’t plan the future.  She just is.  And I would like, no, I would love to be more like her.  And sometimes, when I am in her company, I am.  I get totally swept up in the small, beautiful, fragrant, colorful, peaceful now.

The elegance of dogs, it’s just astonishing.