PAWS & LIFE: Revelling in the comfort of the ordinary

Predictable routines are good for both dogs and humans!

My dog, Sydney, has got our morning routine down to a pat. Every morning, though she can’t read the time, she comes and sometimes gently, at other times not-so-gently, taps me with her paw, and wakes me up at precisely 6.30 am. On rare occasions, when her internal clock runs slightly late or maybe when she feels generous and knows I need the extra nap time, she wakes me at 6.45 am. I’d like to believe that it’s compassion, but the reality might just be that she was probably snoozing herself. Even her mercy, I suspect, has limits.

She follows me around, keeping a close eye on every step I take — I drink my warm lemon water, take the butter dish out of the fridge, line my bins, put the laundry in the washing machine and start it, brush my teeth and get dressed — all under the ever-watchful eye of Ms Sydney Sorensen. I swear no human being has ever observed me with the kind of focus Sydney has before her morning walk. Not even during a job interview.

She stations herself strategically in our kitchen, just in case the butter dish produces a morning miracle; she escorts me to our laundry room, in case I forget where it is; she supervises my toothbrushing in ways that would make my dentist proud. It’s a full audit. No shortcuts. No room for error.

And then, that magic moment.

As soon as I put my sandals on and grab our house keys, she goes completely nuts. “It’s walky time!” she seems to shout with every tail wag, yelp, and enthusiastic dance move around my feet. The sheer delight is palpable and so apparent. I can’t help but smile, even as I type this out. There is something so wonderfully humbling about being the gatekeeper to someone else’s joy.

Here’s the thing: it is exactly the same routine each morning. Same lemon water. Same bins. Same sandals. Same street we’ve walked on a hundred times before. And yet, she greets it with such pure, unbridled joy, as though this morning’s walk might be the greatest adventure of her life.

Somewhere along the way, I realised that this predictable, almost boring morning routine brings me just as much joy. I might not bark and run around in circles (though let’s not rule it out entirely), but it does. There’s a comfort in it. There’s a quiet sense of being anchored before the world begins demanding things from me, before the sun belts its full heat down on me. Most importantly, before the day gathers momentum with email pings, WhatsApp forwards, and headlines that jar my senses.

It made me wonder if there was any science to it.

And, guess what? There sure is.

Predictable routines lower our stress hormones. Familiarity signals safety to the brain. Repeated positive interactions — like a daily walk with someone who thinks you are the centre of the universe — can increase oxytocin, the “bonding hormone.” Small, repeated, simple pleasures calm the mind and regulate the nervous system. Who knew that lining the bins and putting on sandals could be part of a wellness practice?

Dogs instinctively understand what we often forget: consistency feels safe. Anticipation of something good — like a walk — can be just as powerful as the walk itself. That tail-thumping excitement isn’t just cute; it’s chemistry. No, maybe it’s biology wrapped in fur.

In a world that feels increasingly unpredictable, Sydney has chosen to find ecstasy in the ordinary. Same leash. Same pavement. Same trees. Same friends being waved to along the way. And every morning, she approaches it as if life has just handed her a winning lottery ticket.

Maybe that’s the real lesson.

Joy doesn’t always arrive in grand gestures or life-altering milestones. Sometimes it shows up in the quiet repetition of things that anchor us. In lemon water. In clean laundry. In the jingle-jangle of keys. In a dog that believes that today’s walk is the most important event in human history.

Sydney may not read the clock. But she reads something far more important — the rhythm of our life together. And every morning, with a paw pat to my arm and an uncontainable tail wag, she reminds me that there is extraordinary comfort in the beautifully ordinary.

The writer is an award-winning children’s author who loves dogs, children, and books — the order changes daily. Write to her at nalinisorensen @gmail.com

Paws & Life is a monthly column that reflects on how our pets shape the way we live, love, and learn.