Can Your Dog Teach You How to Lasso Time?
“Be where you are; otherwise you will miss your life." - Gautama Buddha
How Time Flies
When I was a kid I used to wonder why, as people age, they talked so much about their health. Now, at sixty-three, I understand. Not a day goes by that I don’t bemoan my injured shoulder, ask Ken how his neck is doing, or chat with a friend about their ailments.
As we get older one of the most frightening prospects we face is a diagnosis of dementia—a condition that affects over seven million Americans, a number that is steadily rising.
A few years ago, just three weeks after learning I was adopted, I discovered my birth mother living in a state hospital in Chicago. Racked with dementia, she had no idea who I was or that she’d given me up for adoption fifty-seven years earlier.
While waiting to meet my biological mother, a very sweet older woman came up to me, took me by the arm, and said, “I’m so glad you’ve come to visit me.” I’d never met her before in my life.
Years earlier, when my adoptive mother was diagnosed with dementia, she found it difficult to communicate with or recognize family members. On one visit, I noticed the knobs were missing from her stove. My sister had removed them after Mom had left the burners on several times. She feared coming home one day to find the house in flames.
When I tried to engage my mom in conversation, she would repeat the same phrases. “Look at the wind through the leaves,” she’d say, gazing at my sister’s avocado tree.
“Uh-huh,” I’d answer.
“Look at the wind through the leaves,” she’d say again.
“You said that before, Mom,” I’d reply, impatiently. Not knowing how to act or what to say, I gave up too quickly trying to connect with her.
My mom passed away over two decades ago, leaving so much unsaid. So much love unexpressed. I wish I had been more patient and compassionate. I wish I’d known then what I know now.
Living in The Now with Dementia
When a loved one is diagnosed with dementia, they may look the same, but their inner world undergoes a significant change. They might forget conversations moments after they occur, share stories that aren’t true, or lash out in frustration and confusion. Depression and anxiety are also common.
When someone I love dearly received a recent dementia diagnosis, I learned a hard but invaluable lesson: to meet them where they are.
Don’t ask, “Do you remember when…?” or try to correct their memories. Instead, hold their hand, simply listen. Choose to understand. This is a tremendous gift to anyone struggling with dementia.
My relationship with my loved one has always been strong, but dementia has deepened our bond in unexpected ways. It has allowed us to connect in a space of love, understanding, and grace. I don’t know how much time we have left in this precious space, but I’m determined not to waste a single moment dwelling on the past or worrying about the future. The best gift I can give her is to be fully with her in the only moment that truly exists—this one.
No One Does It Better
Dogs have superpowers. One of the greatest is their ability to live in the moment.
When I’m at my lowest, Grace doesn’t comfort me with words; she soothes me with her presence. One look into her soulful eyes can bring tears to mine.
In memory care facilities, dogs often work miracles. They connect with patients in ways that family members and caretakers often cannot. My uncle, for instance, had difficulty communicating with his family—until a big black Lab rested his head on his lap. Suddenly, my uncle smiled and began talking as though he were his old self again.
Slowing Down Time
Living in the moment has countless benefits: reduced stress, stronger relationships, and less anxiety. But one unexpected benefit is the perception of slowing down time.
When you engage your senses—watching the colors of a sunset as it shifts into night, smelling the aroma of the surrounding plants, hearing the wind in the trees, savoring a great meal, or feeling your dog’s soft coat in your hand—your brain processes each moment more deeply. Time seems to stretch.
Who better to teach us this skill than our dogs, who live fully immersed in the sights, sounds, and smells of each walk they take? We may walk intending to reach our destination, but observing a dog sniffing the ground, looking ahead, and pointing their ears towards a distant sound shows us they are fully immersed in the entire experience.
Embracing Life’s Fleeting Moments
“Living in the now” isn’t just about being present for your loved ones. It’s about appreciating the small moments in everyday life. Whether it’s a wagging tail, rustling leaves, or a gentle touch, these moments of connection enrich our lives beyond measure.
So, the next time you’re out with your dog or sitting with a loved one, especially a person suffering from cognitive decline, pause. Breathe it all in. It’s in these fleeting moments of presence that we can lasso time, slow it down, and discover the greatest gift of all—life itself.
Stay Healthy & Stay Pawsitive,
Carlyn MDO
PS: Do you have a tip for staying present and in the moment? Share your thoughts—I’d love to hear your perspective!
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