We’ve had a week of 90-degree heat where I live, but try to explain to two dogs that it’s too hot to go for their typical 30-minute walk, and you’ll realize it’s futile. They’re used to having that 30 minutes to smell the outdoors and see what’s going on in the world, at least in the couple of blocks around our home. I had the best intentions to get them out earlier in the morning, but that didn’t happen. So we ended up walking in the early afternoon, seeking the shade of the very generous trees that line the streets and reside in a nearby park.

On a particularly sunny stretch where we had to walk facing the sun, I noticed that our chihuahua Luna wasn’t walking beside me as she typically does. I stopped and turned around to see her trotting right behind me, enjoying the small amount of shade my shadow provided her.

Her intuitive use of my shadow to help her cope with the heat made me laugh but also made me think. How have I basked in someone else’s shadow, relying on them to help me cope with difficulties in the world? This isn’t necessarily a bad practice. In fact, I think it shows how interconnected we are in the world.

For years in the winter, my dad would snow-blow the sidewalks around their Ohio home, including some of the neighbors’ sidewalks and driveways. He was retired, and he liked doing it. Some of them had health problems or work, and having their snow removal taken care of was one less thing they had to think about. These days, those neighbors and others who have moved into the neighborhood now help my nearly 90-year-old mother with her snow removal. Their kids take her trash to the curb for her on trash days, and I imagine, based on how I’ve seen this work, that someday, when they need it, someone else will help them with snow and trash removal.

It's not a sign of weakness to bask in someone else’s shadow. It’s OK to need others’ help. Rather than thinking we have to be the helper all the time, it is time we understand the cyclical nature of need. I mean, if a ten-year-old chihuahua can figure it out, then maybe there’s hope for us, too.