Over a lunchtime coffee. ☕️

Not long ago, International Dog Day came and went.

I didn’t say anything particularly special about it because Beata beat me to it. That day, she shared her story so sincerely and beautifully—a story in which two “fairy-tale characters” appeared side by side: a baby and a dog.

Two newcomers to this vast, adventure-filled world.

Both eager to explore it.

At the very same time.

My story was almost identical.

Mykolas and Ego—practically twins.

Both born in 2021.

My confidence that I’d have enough time for both of them was every bit as strong as Beata’s.

We’ll go to training together.

We’ll walk every forest trail.

We’ll take our four-legged companion everywhere we go.

I somehow forgot that a family of five—and everything that comes with traveling: a stroller, fishing gear, and all the other essentials—might require something closer to a minibus… with a trailer.

And even then, I’m not sure it would all fit.

Especially once you add everyone’s bicycles.

And, of course, the newest member of the family wasn’t just any puppy.

He was a full-sized German Shepherd.

Actually, we didn’t buy a shepherd.

We bought Rex.

Inspector Rex, naturally.

The one from the TV series who’s always portrayed as being smarter than the humans around him.

Was my “double trouble” plan all sunshine and wildflowers?

Oh, not even close.

There was everything.

Including more than a few tearful moments when I wondered if perhaps…

pregnancy hormones had temporarily clouded my judgment.

But whichever way you look at it, there wasn’t much point in trying to figure out who had inspired the decision.

As Beata said in her story:

Did you make a decision that wasn’t entirely the right one? Pull yourself together—and make it flourish.

The “twins” stayed.

Both loved.

Both wonderfully wild.

Now they’ve both grown up.

Ego has already turned five, and Mykolas will catch up with him this autumn.

And while the things they come up with sometimes make it genuinely believable that they’re twins…

life has found its rhythm.

I often catch myself thinking that there may be no better school for teaching kindness, empathy, and caring than growing up alongside a dog.

This morning I woke up early.

Pulled the curtain aside.

Looked outside.

Something white lingered in the distance.

Looks like fog, I thought.

I grabbed the leash and headed into the forest before work to walk Ego.

And there…

Honestly…

It felt like paradise.

I smiled to myself and thought,

“Just don’t walk toward the light.”

In all my years of walking a dog, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a morning rising out of a blanket of mist quite like that one.

By the time we made it back home,

the fog had completely disappeared.

I gave Ego a gentle pat on his big head.

“Do you know,” I said,

“that because of you, I get to see so many beautiful, inspiring things?”

They say dogs don’t smile.

But I’m pretty sure…

he smiled at that.

Mua,
V.