We here at Esquire are at home. Just like you, we’re not used to it. Our free time, when we’re not checking emails and updates and push alerts, stretches on and on. And so we’ve figured out a few ways to fill it that we can’t recommend enough. Here’s one.
I don’t want to go running, I just want to watch this dog jump into a pile of leaves over and over.
Whenever I text my friends to complain that I’ve really hit a wall on the whole self-quarantining thing, they have nothing but helpful things to say. Take a run. Do some yoga. Organize something. Meditate. What assholes.
I don’t want to do any of that! I want to do something actually fun. Like watch this video over and over again:
Let’s talk for a second about this video, brought to my attention by a tweet from Hannah Jane Parkison, a writer for the Guardian, in which she called it “possibly the greatest short film ever made.” Couldn’t agree more, Hannah. Let’s watch it again:
This film, posted to the YouTube channel of Dog Named Stella back in February, captures all the joy of getting exercise without having to do any. The dog, named Stella, I am going to assume, runs and jumps into a beautiful leaf pile with all the abandon of someone who has never known eating three straight meals of frozen pizza, of wearing the same leggings for days on end, nor of social distancing at all! I’ve been living vicariously through Stella and her various outfits: butterfly costume, bandana, fully nude, etc. I can’t stop watching her. I’ve enjoyed this video on repeat for what must surely amount to an hour of viewing just today. In fact, I’m gonna do it again right now:
Since I saw Parkinson’s tweet seven months ago* I’ve sent it to all of my loved ones, and now I’m sending it to you. Can’t wait to charge out of my apartment and back into society with all the enthusiasm of Stella bee-lining for that leaf pile when this is all over. Until then, be safe, stay home, and allow Stella to do it for you. Want to watch it again? Let’s.
*Correction: Parkinson posted her tweet on March 16, 2019, mere days before this writing. The author regrets the error, but time has become meaningless.