April 2025 recap: Trying to blossom this spring

On big life changes, writing, and recent shenanigans

Hi from Haley (and Scout)! This is the monthly email I send our blog subscribers, in an attempt to stay connected while not overwhelming your inbox. It looks a little different this month as I keep experimenting.

Thank you so much for being here. 💛

Bet you still can’t guess our favorite color!

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May finds me writing from the tiny-but-cute desk in our new Portland apartment, where we’ll be living through July. Ahh!! As predicted, having a stationary home with unlimited running water is both weird and wonderful.

What is also weird, but not quite so wonderful, is that I’ve been in a bit of a writing slump. More accurately a sharing slump. For most of my six-plus years since adopting Scout, I have posted something on the internet every single day. (Usually multiple times a day.) In the last three months, though, I’ve barely been on Instagram—and in April I hardly opened Substack either.

I just didn’t want to.

And I’m figuring out what my curiosity and fulfillment and connections and probably fifty other things I don’t even yet see as related look like when I don’t devote energy to sharing with an audience in real time.

I know, I know: I’ve waxed poetic about my “relationship with social media” a lot in the past year. What I think my thoughts have been circling around (but never properly approaching) is the realization that it’s never just been about the Paws and Reflect Instagram. For all my self reflection, I am still a confused human. I shout into a blog-shaped void. I question my impulse to yell. Then I shrug, shout some more, and wonder why I still feel vaguely uncomfortable.

I thought the thing I had to figure out was how to share—about Scout, about living in a van, about the other pieces of my life—in a way that felt “right” as we grow and change. Now I’m realizing that ever since I first logged onto Neopets at the age of ten, I’ve constructed a digital world large enough to match, if not actually overshadow, my analog one.

Which leads me to a philosophical question for the girl who went from Neopets to Tumblr to HTML blogs to Instagram and beyond: If I write something, but never post it online for someone else to read, does it make a sound? Does it count?

Of course it does! you say. Of course it does, I know.

But it seems I’d forgotten. Even when I decided to spend less time on classic social media, I mostly just channeled those mental resources into posting here on Substack. In so many ways that’s been great: I like having a blog! It felt freeing to make the blog not strictly about dog training! Anything resembling long-form writing more than endless scrolling is a step towards my personal goals!

But I’ve still felt unsettled. I’ve still been whispering, in the corners of my mind, that I can’t do X or Y or Z (post about a certain topic not related to dogs, take three weeks off from posting anything, insert-other-whim-here). Which makes me wonder: How can I truly figure out what I want my online presence to feel like if I keep myself stuck within that existing presence?

Perhaps I need some distance.

So this is my formal permission slip, addressed to myself, that I am not going to feel obligated to post any specific things at any specific frequency for the next three months. Whilst we are in this sunny little studio apartment, I am going to experiment. I bought construction paper to start collaging; I purchased a silly “how to draw sharks” book; I restocked my stamp supply to send more handwritten cards. I’ve reorganized my to-do app interface; I’m tracking my book word count on a physical calendar; I am going to polish this manuscript!

If you first followed Paws and Reflect for dog training stuff, thank you for sticking with us. (The book will be, above all, for you.) If you’re newer here, thank you for giving my musings a chance. Regardless: I hope something wonderful happened to you this week—and please go play with your dog if you’re able!

Now onto the usual summary.

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✏️ What I’ve published lately

Here on the Paws and Reflect blog

• What is talent without effort?
  What is a title you do not earn? (Alternatively: I have been lazy.)

• To the man who loved shorebirds
  You were almost right—but only almost.

• On saying goodbye to an outdoor gear affiliate program
  Because I don’t need more new stuff

• They all say that it gets better but what if I don’t?
  “When am I gonna stop being wise beyond my years and just start being wise?”

• What does “gossip” mean?
  And how bad (or actually productive and prosocial) is it?

• Surprise! We’re moving out of our van!
  *cue Noah Kahan singing I wanna go to Maine*

• Am I becoming more social?
  Or is dissipating social anxiety just allowing me to enjoy people more?

• Happy third wedding anniversary!
  On almost getting married young, then actually getting married young, and celebrating dates

• I am terrible at being irritated
  Oh, to more gracefully inhabit the land between anger and appeasement

Featured elsewhere

• Is it bad to throw the ball? How to safely play fetch for Juniper
  The topic of the month on dog social media (a conversation loud enough I heard it even with my limited time online) was whether or not it’s dangerous—physically and behaviorally—to throw toys for our dogs. The truth, of course, is somewhere in the middle! I got to talk to multiple trainers and vet techs to sum up fetch pros, cons, and ways to mitigate risk.

• Upcoming: We should scream with awe, and essay on wonder in Opposite of Nihilism
  I love this piece and can’t wait for it to be published next month. Inspired by Katherine Rundell’s Vanishing Treasures!

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One of multiple bookshop + coffee shop combos we enjoyed recently

📚 What I read last month

My April book recap

I read less than usual but still have some thoughts on tuberculosis, mouth breathing, and an eccentric (yet endearing) sci-fi novel:

• Everything is Tuberculosis by John Green ★4
  Sean and I read this aloud together. I don’t think it was John Green’s best prose-wise (he has previously set the sentence structure and diction bar very high in my opinion), but it was as delightfully earnest as I hoped. And about an extremely relevant—and unfortunately, increasingly timely—topic. Best quote on page 77: “much of what some imagine as dichotomous turns out to be spectral, from neurodivergence to sexuality, and much of what appears to be the work of individuals turns out to be the work of broad collaborations.”

• Breath: The New Science of a Lost Art by James Nestor ★3
  Aside from a few “hmm, is that exaggerated?” moments, I quite enjoyed Nestor’s storytelling. How had I never once asked myself why humans have such crooked teeth compared to our fellow animals?! Seriously, from the girl who had four years of braces and headgear?! Anyway, I’m now putting surgical tape over my mouth at night.

• A Half-Built Garden by Ruthanna Emrys ★3-4
  Sean and I are listening to Abundance right now, and I saw that Ezra Klein had previously recommended this book. It was… not what I expected? But Emrys held my interest. (We love anthropological sci-fi here!) Nowhere near as good as Children of Time or The Mountain in the Sea, but worth a read.

Plus some articles that stuck with me

Turns out I also bookmarked very few pieces this month. Still, here’s one thing I saved about Joan Didion’s posthumous journal collection:

• How would you feel if it happened to you? by Hannah Connolly in Notes On

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Home for a few days on Manhattan’s Upper West Side

🚐 April shenanigans

The highlight of April was spending over a week in New York City, a place we’ve now visited three times.

We saw the sun paint the sky pink behind the Statue of Liberty; ate pizza and pasta and so many baked goods; rode the subway and ferry; visited a dozen bookshops; listened to a cello recital at Juilliard; scouted dog-related art at the Met; held hands in Central Park; patroned so many (too many?) cafes; saw Jeremy Strong at a Brooklyn coffee shop the morning after we watched an episode of Succession for the first time; ogled at Broadway and Times Square though spent most of our time in quieter neighborhoods; framed finding appropriate public bathrooms in which to empty our pee jug as “adventures” rather than chores; got to see a few (though never enough, time is too short!) friends; otherwise kept falling in love with the city.

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NYC is (predictably) not Scout’s favorite environment, but she asks for help when she needs it and doesn’t mind peeing on the sidewalk when grass eludes us. Our aging gal is also happier than ever to nap in the van while we explore busier spots, especially if we put up the back window covers so our bed is shrouded in darkness. She doesn’t initiate play much herself (my greatest indication of her comfort) but says “yes” almost every time we ask (the next best thing). In short: Our big city visits have definitely not been the best days of her life—and it’s important I recognize that for her long-term fulfillment!—but they’re a fine interlude.

Before our stint as city slickers, we traveled through surprisingly beautiful southern Ohio; hung out in Shenandoah National Park; had a blast with an old friend in Baltimore (only quoted The Wire twice I swear); saw Zahra the not-quite-two-year-old gorilla at the National Zoo (and properly enjoyed the Think Tank exhibit more than I thought we would); then charged up with a few days in a Delaware state forest. After leaving Manhattan we booked it north, briefly stopping at Yale to see some van Gogh’s at their public art gallery.

May is going to look so very different from our past two-plus years in Hermes. Here’s to novelty!

Love from Cozy Scout