So every day at around 7.45 AM one of my regular routine is to look for the dog! Oh, that beautiful, black Border Colie.
The routine for this guy goes like this. There is this huge piece of lawn where the dog is brought to by the owner. And the man will throw down a ball into the distant territory and this dog will run to the ball and pick it up. Simple! Throw it up there, and he will go pick it up.
And after giving the ball back, the guy starts to run immediately for the next run even before the ball is thrown back again. Once the ball is thrown, once the ball just crosses the dog, the excitement just doubles up and the speed picks up. Sometimes if the man delays and he could not sense the ball crossing him, he turns back to see. But only if the ball had not come yet.
And the routine is done again! And again! and again. Till the owner is bored. Our guy just keeps running the ball down. Every time. Every single time.
And then the routine is repeated the next day. And the next. And the next week and the next year. Till I presume the dog decides to call it a day. But the excitement withers not! It just keeps ebbing away in that tiny heart of his.
Ah, if only I have the excitement of the routine! If only I can run my race at the speed of that lovely creature. If only I have the energy to pick my pace up once I see the target. And then get back, buckle down only to start running again with the same energy and excitement. If only!
I promised myself that one day I will own a dog. And run with it and learn to be as excited as it gets every day. Every single day! Till I learn to get excited at the routine.
The routine for this guy goes like this. There is this huge piece of lawn where the dog is brought to by the owner. And the man will throw down a ball into the distant territory and this dog will run to the ball and pick it up. Simple! Throw it up there, and he will go pick it up.
And after giving the ball back, the guy starts to run immediately for the next run even before the ball is thrown back again. Once the ball is thrown, once the ball just crosses the dog, the excitement just doubles up and the speed picks up. Sometimes if the man delays and he could not sense the ball crossing him, he turns back to see. But only if the ball had not come yet.
And the routine is done again! And again! and again. Till the owner is bored. Our guy just keeps running the ball down. Every time. Every single time.
And then the routine is repeated the next day. And the next. And the next week and the next year. Till I presume the dog decides to call it a day. But the excitement withers not! It just keeps ebbing away in that tiny heart of his.
Ah, if only I have the excitement of the routine! If only I can run my race at the speed of that lovely creature. If only I have the energy to pick my pace up once I see the target. And then get back, buckle down only to start running again with the same energy and excitement. If only!
I promised myself that one day I will own a dog. And run with it and learn to be as excited as it gets every day. Every single day! Till I learn to get excited at the routine.
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