Every Walk is a Story—So Go Slow
Tales from C. Noodle Kuchan, the Magnificent Muzzle of Marvelous Meanders
Good morning, human dumpling.
Yes, you—the marvelous meat-and-bone carriage I have chosen as my daily co-pilot in this thing called “Walkies.”
Before you grab that leash and clomp out the door like a caffeinated giraffe late for jazzercise…
STOP.
And listen to a dog who has sniffed the very edges of reality and still had time to roll in something mysterious on the way back.
You see, walking is not an errand.
It’s not a cardio box to check.
It’s not a battle with Brenda and her judgmental Pomeranian.
No, no, nooooo!
It is a story.
A delicious, dandelion-scented, zigzagging, tail-wagging tale!
A living, breathing scroll of the neighborhood’s deepest secrets!
Every bush? A plot twist.
Every fire hydrant? A confessional booth.
Every strange stain on the sidewalk? A tragic backstory involving tacos and too much optimism.
But here's where you come in, my velcro-shoed wanderer...
You. Walk. Too. Fast.
You're zooming.
You're zipping.
You’re clicking around like your knees are typing a frantic email to your doctor!
But I, C. Noodle Kuchan, sniffing sage and poodle prophet, implore you:
“SLOW THYSELF, O GALLANT WRINKLY-NECKED WANDERER!”
Let us stroll like poets.
Let us wander like butter melting on toast.
Let’s be the kind of explorers who spot frogs with opinions and clouds shaped like marshmallow duels.
Because walking isn’t about going somewhere.
It’s about noticing where you already are.
Feel that breeze?
That’s the universe exhaling just for you.
Smell that flower?
That’s a daisy trying stand-up comedy. (She’s awful, but very sincere.)
I don’t want speed.
I want presence.
I want you beside me, heart open, eyes curious, wearing that hat that makes you look like an eccentric birdwatcher from a Wes Anderson film.
I, C. Noodle, hereby proclaim:
Let your walks be wanders.
Let your steps be sonnets.
Let your journey be so slow and splendid that even the squirrels pause to applaud.
And when we return home, a little out of breath but full of tales…
Let us sit.
Let us sip.
Let us share a crumb or two. (Preferably toast. Possibly bacon.)
Because every walk we take—
whether ten feet or ten blocks—
is a tale we write together.
And I wouldn’t want to write it with anyone else.
Ever Yours in Slow Sniffs & Sidewalk Wisdom,
C. Noodle Kuchan
Senior Tail-Wagger, First-Class Sniffle Inspector,
and Official Mayor of Slowness on Maple Bark Lane
P.S. Mind the toads. And you can watch my latest video here:
