Walking the dog

Last night I slept alone but woke to company. Harper was over me, looking down, in agitated anticipation on a decision most vital: are we to walk?  Aye, we were.  It was up and out for the morning ablution of exercise.

It is that time of year when dog walks start and end in darkness. It will be that way until March. The Helliconian heat of Arizona has finally broke and I need to wear a jacket now (although shorts remain possible for another month).

Dog walks in the dark have some dangers. It is harder to see others coming towards us. That may not be an approaching dog but a coyote or (worse) a javelina.  Harper is discrete where she poops, preferring to do so in total darkness. This makes tidy-up a bit of a challenge.  The most hazardous matter is the paper man. At 5AM he drives like a demon with no regards to stop signs or driving on the proper side of the street. On more than one occasion I’ve been nearly run over. This has burned my bacon to the point of calling the newspaper to remonstrate about his recklessness, but I worry he may retaliate. Mostly I hold back as it makes me feel like one of those old men who write letters to the editor complaining about kids on his lawn.

This morning I weigh 78.5 kg. I don’t know how much Harper weighs. Both of us could stand to lose some fat around our middles. We are going for the ‘every day x 30 days’ goal of dog-walks. Exceptions: if I am sick or run over by the paper man.

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