Walking the dog

They say a dog is as smart as a slow three year old. What they should have said is a dog is as smart as a slow three year old who has no patience.  Harper has it in her head dog-walks happen at three specific times:

5AM regardless of the day or circumstances

Right after supper 

Saturday mornings after we get back from Einstein Brothers and the grocery store.  

Despite my careful reasoning why these sometimes don’t happen, Harper doesn’t take ‘no’ easily.  There is an anxious swivet to her as if to convey the world will fall apart if we don’t stick to schedule.  On the flip side, she finds impromptu walks not at all upsetting to the Oran Mor of the cosmos.  She loves to go on walks. 

It’s that time of year again: dog-walks are done in the dark. These tend to be shorter than their summer cousins, given the cold. In the winter time we stick to paths better lit.  It’s not that we live in a shiftless neighborhood, but the crepuscular hours bring out not just the dogs but the coyotes and javelinas as well.  Sometimes we nearly run into other men with their dogs out on their dog-walks but happily the glow of their cellphones (or talking) gives us a heads-up.  Poor Harper! We haven’t been to the large park since August and I sense she misses going.  There are marvelous sniffs in mentioned park but it’s too shrubby there allowing who-knows-what to be lurking. 

Certain Spo-fans probably want to know if Things Lurking include the two-legged sort out for clandestine interactions. In the ten years living here not once have I been approached in such as manner I am glad to say. Urs Truly is quite content to look at the stars and listen to podcasts while Harper just want to walk and sniff and pee.  You want that sort of thing you go on line thank you very much. 

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