Get in the Truck

It was a regular day about a year and a half ago. I had pulled into a gas station, and while I went inside, Melanie took this photo.

Bear and Harvey, side by side, poking their heads through to the front seat. Waiting. Watching. Just being there.

Harvey was about six months old in the picture—still new to the world but already catching on to what mattered. Bear, older and wiser, had seen it all before. Yet there they were together, still and certain, staring straight into the camera like they were trying to tell us something.

And maybe they were.

They weren’t worried about what came next. They weren’t checking the time or making plans. They were just fully present—content to be together, heads resting on the console, waiting for the door to open so the next part of the ride could begin.

That’s one of their favorite things, by the way: “Get in the truck.”

You say those words, and they light up.

Because to them, it means adventure.

It means togetherness.

It means, “I get to go where you go.”

And I wonder… how often do we miss these sacred little moments?

Waiting for the grand and the loud—when maybe the real gold is in the everyday.

Two dogs. One photo. A pause in the middle of life.

Bear and Harvey don’t care about the to-do list or the next big thing.

They just want to get in the truck.

Because it’s never been about where we’re going—

It’s about going there together.

PS: If you're rushing through today, I hope you pause long enough to see who’s waiting beside you… who just wants to ride through life with you.

The journey isn’t always easy, but love makes even the ordinary feel like enough.