12th November 2014
I have a confession to make that might be a little unexpected. I am writing this right now because the alternative is having to take the dogs for a walk. And bearing in mind I reckon I’m quite the little dog lover, not to mention some time Fitbit addict, it might seem a bit strange. The thing is that putting the two together somehow cancels out the pleasure of each of the constituent parts. Dogs and walking don’t mix!
To be fair, I don’t mind walking the dogs. So long as there is no other living creature within a 100km radius. Doodles and Boo are really quite the cutest canines when they are frolicking around and having a good romp. They are sweet natured and friendly. So much so that should we chance upon someone else whilst they’re off the lead, they are more than likely going to adopt the stranger without even a backward glance at me. And despite any amount of yelling or waving of treats they are either oblivious to their names, or just deaf, so that the only way I can persuade them to accompany me is by legging it after them until I eventually catch up red-faced, sweaty and apologetic. Particularly to those that have been accosted by not just one, but two fairly large beasts who can appear a bit menacing to those who haven’t been introduced. Boo, in particular, could double as a small horse for Spring Festival race days.
Besides, Doodles has found that he can escape from the backyard, and is more than happy to take himself off on adventures. So there is no need for him to be taken out. Apart from having no road sense. Whatsoever. When he’s not skedaddling in the middle of the road and terrorising motorists, he’s played out in the bush, visited the nextdoor neighbours until we got home and invited himself for afternoon tea at the local hotel. When I was summonsed to collect him, (on that particular occasion – I’m on first name terms with the Council), he was shut in their pool area, but thankfully hadn’t completed my disgrace by taking a dip… Or pooping in the middle of the lawn, which he did at the neighbours…
Walking them on the lead is some form of modern torture, which I really believe should be outlawed by the United Nations. Boo, the most passive of beings, morphs into the Incredible Hulk of the dog world. Less green, but all the aggro. She barks and jumps at any fence harbouring another dog. For a pooch that spends most of her time asleep, or thinking she’s a Chihuahua and inevitably banging her head on furniture because she genuinely thinks she will fit under it, she has serious attitude. I think it’s just small dog syndrome.
And then there are the times I tried running with them on one of those running leads. What a disaster. The dogs are like “so you said we were going running…” as they bound off towing me in their wake. They fasten around the waist, these leads. Who’s idea was that? I’m quite lucky not to have been sliced in two. Plus Boo was terrified of the traffic when she was younger, so has nearly leapt into the path of various vehicles in alarm, dragging me after her. I like to give the impression that I am in control of my creatures. But flailing limbs or being propelled sideways alla crab, doesn’t cut it. Especially when you know you will be greeted with “I saw you being walked by your dogs last night. Hahahaha”. Grrrr.
Walking the dogs in not my idea of fun.
However, one woman’s torture is two girls’ gate to freedom. Thank goodness for Twin 1 and Twin 2, for whom every excuse to escape the house is viewed as happiness in a handcart. Walk on.