My work-at-home buddy, Consuela and I went for a walk at lunchtime today, even though it was 25 degrees out, and I had an ice cream headache the entire time. She and I frequently take a mid-day stroll to emerge from the bat cave and get some air. I've decided that our walks mean different things to each of us. While I'm looking to get some exercise and get the blood moving, she's out to sniff as many trees, fences, sign posts and inanimate objects as she possibly can. Her goal is to obsessively mark the trail to let the dog world know "Consuela Was Here."
Now this dog is pushing 17 years of age (yes, you read that right) and has lived with us 16 years as of next month. The sad thing is, she has never developed any semblance of leash manners. Three times today on our two-mile walk, I went left around a street sign while she went right, clothes-lining herself. Back I go to unwind her. I gave her the full lead on the leash and kept on going, thinking maybe I might actually get my heart rate up before she has to stop again. Inevitably, I run out of leash before she's done sniffing, and for a 25-pound dog, she sure can dig in when something (usually nasty) gets her attention. Cliff Claven questions which one of us doesn't have good leash manners, claiming the clothes-lining doesn't happen when he walks her. Whatever!
On the way up the hill, she has this funny little boogie-skip jog she does in between sniffing stops. On the way back, she tends to stay closer to me as her energy starts to flag a little. When we got home, I went back to work while my lucky pal took a nice long nap. It's a dog's life. (BTW, she doesn't like being held the way I'm holding her in the photo. She was NOT happy with posing. In fact, she was spring-loaded and ready to bolt the whole time!)