Wisdom from Dekker

Why Do Humans Make Things So Complicated?

As I, Dekker the Service Dog, settle in with my nose tucked under one paw and the other stretched out just far enough to feel the cool tile, I find myself puzzled by something—Why do humans make things so complicated?

I mean this with love, of course. You are my favorite kind of creature. But honestly, you seem to twist yourselves into knots over things that don’t smell nearly as serious as you think they do.

Today I’ve got a full belly, a soft bed, and a few new letters from friends—human and otherwise. Let’s see what wisdom I can offer from my furry perspective. Maybe it’s not about fixing anything. Maybe it’s just about noticing what’s already wagging inside you.

Question from Theo (age 14)

“Dekker, everyone wants me to decide what I’m

going to do with my life. I don’t even know what

I’m doing next weekend. What should I do?”

Woof Woof, Theo,

That’s a lot of pressure for a young pup. I can’t even decide which side of the bed to sleep on some mornings.

In my world, the path appears when the leash gets clipped on. I don’t know where we’re going—but I trust my person, and I keep my nose to the wind.

Maybe you don’t have to see the whole road yet. Maybe it’s enough to know which direction smells like you.

You’re allowed to grow into your purpose like a dog growing into oversized paws.

What if you’re not behind or lost… just still becoming?

What lights you up? What makes your ears perk and your tail twitch (metaphorically, of course)?

Sniff around there.

Question from Grace:

“Dekker, I get overwhelmed so easily lately.

There’s always more to do, and never enough me to do it all.”

Woof Woof, Grace,

Whew. That sounds exhausting. Even I get tired watching my person try to be everywhere at once.

Here’s the truth: dogs don’t multitask. We smell one thing at a time. Chase one ball. Nap in one patch of sun.

When the world feels too big, shrink it. One bowl of water. One deep breath. One kind thing said out loud.

Sometimes when I’m overwhelmed, I lie down in the middle of everything and wait until my tail settles. What would it feel like to just stop for a moment and let the world circle around you instead?

Maybe you don’t need more hours.

Maybe you just need a little space to lie down and be.

Question from Willow the Cat:

“Dekker, why do humans act like they have to earn rest?

I nap whenever I want.”

Woof Woof, Willow,

Ah, I see you’ve noticed the same thing. It’s strange, isn’t it?

Rest is not a reward. It’s a need. I never once got told, “You can only lie down after you’ve fetched enough.”

Maybe humans forget they’re animals too. Maybe they think they’re machines—always needing to prove their worth.

But we know better, don’t we? A curled body in a warm spot is a sacred thing.

You’re teaching them just by being. Keep it up. One slow blink at a time.

Question from Allen:

“Dekker, I’ve been trying to change some habits—

eat better, move more, be kinder to myself.

But I keep slipping. How do I stay on track?”

Woof Woof, Allen,

Slipping isn’t the problem. Not getting back up is.

When I was a puppy, I couldn’t climb the porch steps. I’d fall, scrabble, whimper—and then try again. Eventually, I got there. You will too.

What if instead of thinking in terms of perfection, you thought in terms of practice?

Even a dog knows that learning takes repetition. If you wander off the trail, sniff your way back. No shame needed.

And be kind. Not just kind to others—but to the you who’s trying, again and again, with a big heart and maybe muddy paws.

That’s who I’d sit beside.

Question from Henrietta:

“Dekker, I’ve been feeling really lonely lately,

even though I’m surrounded by people.

How can that be?”

Woof Woof, Henrietta,

Oh, I feel this in my furry chest.

You can be in a crowded room and still not feel seen. It’s not about numbers—it’s about connection.

When I’m feeling distant from my pack, I bring them a sock. Or I lean on their leg until they notice. Sometimes I just lie down close, even if they don’t speak.

Is there someone you could lean on, even just a little? Or someone who might need your warm presence more than your words?

Loneliness is not weakness. It’s a sign that your heart still wants to be known. That’s something to celebrate.

You are not the only one sniffing the air for belonging.

Until next time, may you chase only the balls that matter, lie in the softest places, and find someone who knows just where to scratch behind your ears.

If something’s been on your heart lately, feel free to write to me. I may be just a dog, but sometimes that’s exactly what you need.

Woof woof!!
Dekker

PS: Want to read more of my advice? Go to “Dekker”!

And if you want to know more about where I learned to be so smart…Here is where I was trained….