My mom Cathy likes me to sit at the corner when we cross the street. Here we’re on our Big Walk and I’m demonstrating how obedient I can be.
Actually, that’s what my mom thinks I’m doing. In reality I’m looking proud and regal. I’m a proud pack member who’s guarding her owner. Nobody better mess with us.
From the back, I look a little bit like a retriever. What do you think?
My mom just read me a story about a banker who lost her job. She couldn’t find a corporate position so she started walking dogs. You can read the story here.
Here’s what she wrote: “…I get so much gratification from walking dogs. They’re so appreciative of the simplest things you do for them. No matter how bad my day may be going, when I walk into a home and the dog is so happy to see me and gives me kisses, it puts a different spin on the day.”
I know just what she means. When my Aunt Sara comes to take me for a trip to Magnuson Park, I jump up and down. Aunt Sara tells me to sit so she can put my leash on but I am so excited! Dog walkers are saints in my book.
More people should be dog walkers. My mom says we need cat groomers even more than dog walkers. She was hoping to find a mobile unit to groom Ophelia. Finally she gave up and just ordered a new comb. She’s become quite the do-it-yourselfer these days.
My mom has been getting compliments on her new svelte self. Back in August, she declared 2008-2009 the Year of the Body. I must admit, I’m surprised. She keeps to her self-imposed diet (based on a combo of the Food Ranger and a couple of books she read). She goes to exercise classes.
She won’t get on a scale, but the other day she said, “I can’t wear these shorts anymore. They’re falling off! I can’t hold them up when I’m holding your leash.” She gave me a look that said, “Somebody needs to walk better on leash.” Who, me?
She’s always complaining about sore muscles but I have no sympathy. Mom’s got me on a good behavior program. That means I go to Magnuson Park twice a week and the Dog Lounge at least once a week. I’m tired too. Mom says, “Dogs are supposed to feel a little sleepy all the time.”
Great idea in theory, but I seem to be in a one-down position when it comes to the cats.
With the beautiful weather we’re having, my mom decided we should walk to her gym in the evening. Actually, she walks to the gym. I get dropped off at Downtown Dog Lounge to sit on the couch and hang out with my friend Summer and all the other dogs.
We walk about a mile and a half. Yesterday we were running late so my mom insisted we walk fast. No time for sniffing, she said. And besides, she added proudly, walking fast is better exercise.
Well, I sure don’t need to lose weight. I am in great shape. Maybe my mom could stand to drop a few inches here and here, but why do I have to go along with the program?
Cathy is very sensitive about weight, though, so I’m not saying a word. She holds the keys to my treats.