judging a city by its dogs

As I was telling some friends about my travels of the last few weeks, my recollections of each city visited invariably included an observation about the dogs: Prague, crowded, hot, all dogs met some unspoken prerequisite that they be a daschund (or some kind of mix thereof); Barcelona, really hot, fun, ‘real’ sized dogs; Salzburg, gorgeous, clean, dogs paraded as status symbols; and Mysore wonderful yoga, dogs that provide protection but rarely get walked.

I like dogs. They’re straightforward, honest, and genuine, whats not to love? I’m one of those idiots on the sidewalk who thinks its ‘nice’ to greet dogs as they pass so it’s not really a surprise that they factor so high on the list of things I’d notice about a city, I tend to interact more with them than with people.

After ten days of whirlwind travel with my mother and aunt, I’m back in Helsinki where the dogs have very long tails and the promises of April have been fulfilled: Helsinki is a gorgous place to be in the summertime. The transition from my very silent, hermit like existence in Gokulam to non-stop travel and the company of others in Europe was a bit rocky but they had the patience of saints in ignoring the fact that my every sentence began with the phrase “In India...”.

There is so much happening inside this head of mine. I’m striving to stay centered, to be where I am, and not let myself ricochet with sadness, anxiety, worry between past and future events without stopping where I am because right now, this moment, this is a good place to be. It is literally a second-by-second endeavour to remind myself to be where I am but so far, so good.