My Dog Needs a Job

It’s our nightly ritual. I let my dog into the backyard for a final potty break, and I spend the next half hour trying to get him back inside. I call from the back door as he whizzes from one end of the yard to the other, pretending not to hear me. We call it his bedtime frolic, and it is both charming and somewhat infuriating.

He’s only just turned one, this overgrown adolescent puppy, and he needs to get his sillies out before settling in for the night. But as I stand in the doorway waiting for him, I find myself wondering, why? Why is it so essential that he burn off all this energy before he goes to sleep? What is it that he’s actually doing out there? And so I watch.

He stands at full alert at one end of the yard, ears cocked and body tense. A bark echoes in the distance, and Bear barks in response. He shoots like a rocket to the other side of the yard, where he nearly crashes into a bush. Again he stands sentinel for a minute before bolting away. He checks on one of the many holes he’s thoughtfully added to the landscaping. He moves a toy twenty feet. He is a blur of frenetic activity. And it occurs to me: he is busy.

Bear isn’t just cavorting around the backyard. He is engaged in activity which, to him, has great purpose and meaning. When he comes in finally, ready to curl up next to me on the big bed, he isn’t just worn out from exercise. He brims with…