This morning, while walking my dog, we ran into a couple of small dogs we usually see in the afternoon at the park. The dogs greeted each other with excitement, tails wagging. “Nice and frisky in the morning, aren’t they?” one neighbor said. Another, trailing behind and rubbing sleep from her eyes, grumbled, “Unlike me.” With sympathy for her sleepy state, I replied that I hadn’t had my coffee yet either.

We continued our walk, and so far, so good! My little dog was behaving well. We stopped at the first neighborhood dog treat station, then the second. But then came the challenge—the final level. No more treat stations were left. We had to navigate the obstacle course of trash, human and animal excrement, and autumnal leaves mixed in on the sidewalks to get home. My patience started to wear, as my furry friend tap-danced through the mess. He veered dangerously close to some mysterious puddle—human or animal urine, take your pick. Then, he decided to stop altogether, planting himself just three blocks away from home. Some say, he was dropping his anchor. With an important meeting coming up, I swooped him up and carried him through some of the more challenging areas. 

As we neared the laundromat down the block, I could see a woman with dirty silver hair held back by a headband watching us. I could feel her gaze as I struggled to keep my dog from swiping yet another hotspot of urine. It had been an extra unruly morning on the dirty block. As we got closer, my internal alarm went off—she was giving off that “red light special” vibe. She raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips. I smiled politely as we passed, but she didn’t smile back.

“If you wanted a dog that minded, you should’ve gotten a golden retriever. There’s a personality for everyone, you know,” she said curtly, with her nose held high in the air.

Now, I know what some of you are thinking: don’t respond! For heaven’s sake, do not engage. But you see, I also hadn’t had my coffee yet today. “You’re right, there is a personality for everyone, isn’t there? Have a nice day,” I replied, smiling. “Kill them with kindness, kill them with kindness,” I repeated to myself as I reached the end of the block, her voice fading in the distance.

Positivity flows like water, while negativity greases the slide like oil— not to mention, it’s highly flammable. We all have a choice in how we respond to others. That said, the minute I walked through my door, I made myself a much-needed cup of coffee. 

Have a great day, everyone!

-Keri