Taking the old man for a walk

Every day I tell this old guy I live with to get some exercise and come for a walk with me. So he puts on all these warm winter clothes and grabs a leash and puts it around my neck. I don't see that it's needed, but since he wants to hold on to it, I use it to let him know where we're going. There are a number of roads and paths we can take and I pick a different one every day. There's always so much to smell: a dog has to keep up with these things, as you know. Of course, there's the personal business of bodily functions, as well--why he seems to like collecting such stuff in little plastic bags, I'll never know. But it feels nice when he tells me I'm a good girl for doing it, although the logic behind that escapes me.

Sometimes we meet other dogs walking their folks. Most of them are decent pooches and some I even like. Others, especially the tiny ones, irritate me and I let them know it. Somehow it seems that their folks can't deal with us dogs sorting out our business--they just tug at the leash and make their escape before everything gets said and done. The few dogs along the way that are stuck behind fences or chained up always bark. I pity them; my folks would never restrain me like that. I think every dog deserves to be treated like a family member.

Hey, a dog's life is pretty good, don't you think? The best thing with my old man is that he's learned how I like it: first dinner, then the walk. One gets set in one's ways when one gets old, you know. Eat, walk, sleep. Then a nap or two--I like finding a different place in the house for each nap. My favorite spot is next to the toilet where it's cool and quiet. Except for when my folks have to use it. Why don't they just install another toilet somewhere else? They're always making changes and additions to the house, anyway.

That's all folks, my next nap is due. See you soon!