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Why Walking My Dog Feels Like Parenting My Kids
Every time I pull out the leash for my dog, Max, he erupts with excitement. He bounces around, filled with the thrill of the outdoors, eager to explore new sights, smells, and the joys of adventure.
In much the same way, my little ones, Alex and Mia, used to greet me with wide-eyed smiles every morning from their cribs, their tiny hands reaching out for hugs and love. Each day brought new milestones—sitting up, crawling, walking, and finally, eating solid food. With every accomplishment, they took another step away from me, growing ever more independent.
As Max and I embark on our walks, everything seems familiar to me, but for him, it’s a fresh journey each time. He sniffs around, eager to say hello to fellow canines, marking his territory with a little pee. He wanders along the sidewalk, investigating every nook and cranny. Just like my toddlers, who would run off to explore the world around them, Max is curious about everything—where should we go next?
My toddlers were always on the move, drawn to other kids like magnets. They’d play side-by-side, then together, bonding as they grew. I would chase them down playgrounds, through stores, and everywhere in between. Then came that day when they finally ditched the diapers, marking yet another step towards independence.
During our walks, there are moments when Max digs in his heels, refusing to budge, even as I try to coax him forward. He finds puddles and rolls in the dirt, sometimes eating grass that doesn’t agree with him later. Just like my kids, who would sometimes hesitate in the face of new experiences or bark back at challenges, Max has his own moments of uncertainty. He inches closer to me, seeking comfort while still being intrigued by the world around him—a dance of curiosity and caution.
As my kids transitioned into middle school, they experienced a whirlwind of emotions—joy and sadness mingled together in the blink of an eye. They were maturing, yet still clinging to their childhood innocence. Their dependence on me became a delicate balance; they needed me while also seeking to break free. I often found myself reminiscing about their baby days while looking forward to the incredible people they’d become—another big step away, but still holding on tight.
As we near home, Max instinctively knows the way, and I trust him to lead me to our front door. He’s an older dog now, but I know he recognizes the comfort of home. My high schoolers, busy with friends and activities, often dart in and out of the house, preparing for their futures. They still return for laundry or a listening ear, but I know they’re finding their own paths—stepping further away, yet always knowing where to come back to.
And just like Max, who will be there to greet them with wagging tails, I’ll always be here, waiting.
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Summary:
This piece likens the experiences of dog walking to parenting, highlighting the joy, curiosity, and bittersweet moments that come with both. From the excitement of new discoveries to the challenges of growing independence, both a dog and children share a journey filled with exploration and emotional complexity.