Dogs in the Cradle: How Freedom Is Teaching Me to Keep Moving Forward

My first in-person race in years, a lucky five-dollar bill, and a finish that meant more than a place in the results.

Freedom and me at the finish of the Long Island Cares Paws Walk/Run 5K. Our first in-person race together in years—and a morning worth showing up for.

I took this weekend off from writing. Yikes.

But while I was away from the keyboard, I was out gathering a story.

On Sunday, Freedom and I participated in the Long Island Cares Paws Walk/Run 5K at Belmont Lake State Park. It was my first in-person race in years. Being there brought together so much of what matters to me: dogs, movement, community, and finding the courage to keep going when life looks different than it used to.

I didn’t win overall. I didn’t place in my age group.

But I participated. I made my donations. I did something good for Long Island.

And I crossed that finish with Freedom beside me.

That felt like a win. And it was! Everyone who participated WON by just getting out there for a cause or maybe two or three causes!

Dogs in the Cradle

While we were warming up, I started thinking about Harry Chapin’s “Cat’s in the Cradle.”

Then another thought came along: Dogs in the Cradle.

As the lyrics say when ya coming home dad I don't know when and later in the song (or poem) it reverts to when ya coming home son I don't know when....Scout and Liberty ran with me during the last 5k years ago and kept training with us until they went into God's home.

I was thinking about how Freedom has grown into being my running partner, taking on a role Scout and Liberty once filled. They were part of my routines, my miles, and my life. I miss them, and heading into a race without them carries feelings that don’t appear in the results.

Freedom is creating her own place in that story. And somewhere along the way, something happened.

The dog I’ve been training started training me.

To get outside. To move. To pay attention. To make room for happiness, even while I’m carrying grief or worrying about what comes next.

Watching the other people with their dogs, I wondered how many of them had experienced that same change. We teach our dogs how to walk with us, respond to us, and become part of our daily lives. Then we find ourselves organizing our days around the walks, the exercise, and the companionship we need, too.

Our dogs grow into being our coaches.

Freedom certainly has.

Learning to Listen at Both Ends of the Leash

Being a team with Freedom also gives me a chance to practice communicating better.

I have to consider what I’m asking of her. Am I being clear? Am I being consistent? Am I giving her a chance to understand?

And am I paying attention to what she is communicating to me?

That last question matters. There are two of us at the ends of that leash.

Training together reminds me that communication involves patience and observation as much as words. Those are things I can carry into the rest of my life, too.

Scout and Liberty helped build the life I’m continuing with Freedom. Now she is helping me find my way forward—one outing, one lesson, and one mile at a time.

My running partner, my teammate, and a coach with four paws. Freedom is helping me keep moving forward.

Harry Chapin Was Part of the Morning, Too

After thinking about “Cat’s in the Cradle” during our warm-up, I saw the top male and female awards.

They featured Harry Chapin’s likeness.

“Oh my God, it’s Harry Chapin!”

That was my reaction. I had already been turning his song over in my mind, connecting it to the ways our dogs grow into their roles in our lives. Then there was his familiar face on the awards.

It was one of those details that tied the morning together for me.

I wasn’t taking one of those awards home, but I took a picture. They belonged in the story, too.

An unexpected connection: I was thinking about Harry Chapin’s music during our warm-up, then spotted his likeness on the awards.

Everyone Had a Part in This

A finishing time tells you how long you were on the course. It doesn’t tell you everything that brought you there.

For me, this morning was about returning to an in-person race, spending that time with Freedom, and supporting Long Island Cares. It felt good to be part of something happening in my own community.

And so many people helped make it happen.

To the volunteers who gave their time, the organizers who put the event together, and the timers who tracked everyone’s finish: thank you.

To the runners, walkers, supporters, and everyone who contributed in whatever way they could: thank you.

And to the dogs, who brought their energy, company, and individual personalities to the course: you were part of what made this event special.

Whether you had two legs or four, whether you crossed the finish or helped someone else have a good experience, you had a part in the morning.

I was glad to be there with you.

A little appreciation for the people whose time and effort helped make the morning possible.

My Lucky Five Dollars

Now, about my unexpected prize.

I found five dollars along the course.

Five dollars! How lucky can you get?

That little discovery made me smile. It also immediately became more than five dollars in my mind.

Maybe I’ll put it on my dry erase board. Maybe on the refrigerator. Somewhere I can look at it and remember this day.

With a job opportunity I’m hoping for, I couldn’t help thinking, Maybe this is my lucky five. Maybe another win is coming.

I’m choosing to keep it as a little symbol of hope while I wait.

A reminder that I got out there. That I contributed. That a day can hold something good I didn’t know was coming.

Sometimes a five-dollar bill gives you a story worth much more than five dollars.

[Optional photo: The five-dollar bill, perhaps displayed wherever you decide to keep it.]

My unexpected souvenir from the course: a lucky five and a reason to smile.

And Then There Were Horses

The 5K was the heart of my day, but there was another stop afterward: the Vet Fest at Pal-o-mine Equestrian Center, about five minutes from my house.

I got to see the horses up close.

Oh, those beautiful horses.

One gorgeous black horse especially caught my attention. I took photographs, admired him, and found myself wanting to come back and ride.

I asked about it, and lessons are part of the process. I understand that. There are things you need to learn before getting on a horse, for your sake and the horse’s.

Right now, paying for classes is something I would need to figure out. But I’m going to look into it.

After a morning of returning to something I’ve loved, it felt good to be curious about another possibility.

Another four-legged highlight of the day. I could have spent a lot longer admiring this beautiful horse.

What Winning Looked Like for Me

I came home with finish-line photographs, memories, a lucky five-dollar bill, and something to write about.

I also came home knowing I had taken a step I’d been thinking about taking.

My first in-person race in years was now something I had done.

Scout and Liberty were in my thoughts. Freedom was beside me. And around us were people and dogs coming together for Long Island Cares.

That is what I want to remember when I look at these photographs.

It is also what Doggone Healthy Choices means in my own life: building a healthier, happier life alongside my dog—one foot, one paw at a time.

I’m teaching Freedom, and she’s teaching me. We’re still learning how to be our best team.

On Sunday, that team crossed a finish line and helped support our community.

Yes, I’d call that a win.

What has your dog taught you lately? Maybe it’s to move more, listen more closely, or make time for something that brings you joy. I’d love to hear about the coach at your end of the leash.

Until tomorrow have a happy and healthy tail wagging day,

email me at pamela@doggonehealthychoices.us ​

Pam and Freedom

Doggone Healthy Choices