We learn a lot from our teachers in life—and sometimes, those teachers have four legs, fur, and a tail that never stops wagging.
Our dog Fergus has quietly (and sometimes not so quietly) reminded me of some simple but profound lessons for living a grounded, joyful, and spirit-filled life.
1. Rely on Others
Fergus has no illusion that he’s independent. When he needs something, he lets us know—food, a walk, or simply company as he asserts himself onto our laps.
So many of us try to go it alone. We carry a sense that asking for help is an intrusion. But we are made to be interdependent, and our wellbeing grows through our connections. To ask for help, to lean on others, to be vulnerable—that’s not weakness; that’s wisdom.
2. Nap Often
Okay, few of us can nap like Fergus, but we can learn to honor the rhythm of rest and pause. Life isn’t meant to be constantly lived on the go.
Fergus reminds us that renewal happens in stillness. A short pause, a deep breath, 5 minutes of quiet, maybe a 10 minute “catnap”—these seemingly small interruptions are large ways we refuel our lives and stay present to it.
3. Be Curious
When walking outside with Fergus, I accompany a non-stop current of curiosity. Every tree, every scent, every passing person and dog, evokes his fascination. His nose leads him into a world of endless discovery.
Living with excited expectancy is a beautiful way to live—wide-eyed, open-hearted, eager to learn and experience. Curiosity is the soul’s way of saying, I’m alive, I’m open, and I’m ready for more.
4. Wag Your Tail
Sometimes enthusiasm bubbles up naturally, and sometimes we have to stir it up ourselves. Fergus’s tail could power a small windmill—it thumps and swishes in delight whenever we walk into the room.
He reminds us that joy is contagious and that even a little wag of gratitude or kindness is a gift that keeps giving. A happy heart, or tail, shifts the atmosphere within us and around us.
5. Only Bark When It’s Really Needed
Fergus isn’t a big barker, but when he does speak, it matters. It’s clear, honest, and purposeful.
There’s a time to stay quiet and a time to give voice to what’s real—to our pain, our needs, our anger, or our fear. Sometimes, the most spiritual act we can do is to say, I’m not okay, and I need you to notice me.
The Great Lesson
Maybe the greatest lesson from Fergus is this: life doesn’t have to be complicated to be sacred. A little vulnerability, some rest, a practice of curiosity, nurturing joy, and being honest about our needs—these go a long way toward keeping our hearts awake and present within the sacredness of life.