You were found abandoned
a turbulent start,
a story written with the unknown ahead
before we ever met.
And yet, somehow,
you found your way to us
or maybe
we were the ones found.
Lucky, the rescue,
I called you.
But you rescued something in me, too.
We learned each other slowly
step by step,
walk by walk,
finding rhythm on quiet streets
and sunlit trails.
At first, it was just learning
how to walk together
the pull of the leash,
the pause at every scent,
the way you noticed the world
before I did.
But over time,
you taught me more than walking.
You taught me to linger in the moment
where the wind moves through trees,
to listen
when the water hums along the shore,
to see wonder
in the smallest living things.
On the mountains of Lake Tahoe
in open air, dusty paths,
and patches of grass behind home
you moved like you belonged
to all of it.
You carried no past
the way we do,
no need to separate yourself
from the world around you.
Just now.
And now,
you are everywhere I look
in the quiet of morning light,
in the stillness of the path,
in the space beside me
where you used to be.
Lucky,
you were never just rescued.
You were a reminder
that even after a turbulent start,
there is still joy to be found,
still love to be given,
still a path
worth walking.
And at the end,
you taught me
to appreciate what we shared,
not what is now lost
with your passing,
to remember
the living world around us,
and to walk within it
while we can.
—
Lena E. Torgerson explores the intersection of human performance, leadership, organizations, and psychology. Her work reflects on how people experience and navigate complexity within modern systems. Drawing from a background in organizational research, she writes to make visible what is often felt but rarely named.
