When my dog was a puppy, if he was in the kennel too long, he would get a case of what my dog breading sister called “the ZOOMIES.”
One minute he was sitting calmly at my side letting me rub his belly, and the next he turned into a canine lunatic.
The bottom floor of my home was converted into a race track, and he would sprint in repetitive circles, letting nothing slow his pace, leaping up and over the couches to continue on his course.
We learned there was nothing stopping him when he got like this, and the best thing we could do was get out of his way and wait for him to exhaust himself.
I first saw him the morning after we moved in to our new house.
He paused when I greeted him.
Like a turtle poking his head out of his shell with caution , his eyes eventually came around to meet mine in an effort to see who had spoken. I guessed his Asian origins and wondered what his story was. A longing arose to know how his steps had landed him in south Huntsville, Alabama.
I have yet to cross the road again and ask him….
Last week I sat and listened as a young mom shared what she had been doing to encourage her 5 month old son to roll over.
She said,” He just doesn’t seem to be motivated. He is content to just lay there. “
She shared how he would grasp toys that were overhead, but she could not get him to reach across midline to get them.
As I begin working with him, presenting the toy to his hand and guiding him to follow it, I noticed what I see often;
There comes a point when we decide the work is just not worth the effort.