I Walk Dogs Because …

I don’t just walk dogs.  I have ALWAYS walked dogs.  First I walked my mom’s dogs.  Later I walked friends’ dogs and, finally,  I walk my dogs.

I walk dogs because  I can which is a noteworthy statement because I’ve not been able to walk my dogs since my shoulder froze up.  And, I’ve missed the zen of it.

That state of inner and outer peace where I am in total sync with whichever dog I’m walking.  Which would be Josephine,  not Tessa.  Josephine, at a spry almost 14 years old,  heels beautifully.  She always has.

The  two of us float – she with a stride like a Tennessee Walker horse so I almost don’t even realize she’s heeling next to me – and me?  I can just be.  In The Moment.

She’s my whippet with the natural, easy stride. (Isn’t that why some of us fell in love with sighthounds?)

She got left behind this afternoon.  Sometimes, you make choices like that.  Jasper (that’s the almost 9 year old Great Dane) and Tessa (all 18 pounds of a Min Pin mix-breed) got to hike part of the Crescent Trail.

So, Josephine was more than ready for her own walk at the end of the day.  Which she told me by standing on the back stair landing, refusing to move despite all of my cajoling and making nice.

There was a fat moon, just one night over full, hanging low in the sky as we slipped out the back door into the yard.  Praise be, it was still warm enough that walking was pleasant and not like a quick dip in the Arctic deep freeze.

We pretty much had the neighborhood to ourselves.  No Stupid Dog People and no other dogs.  Josephine floated beside me and I was free to move about the universe:  enjoying the sparkle of stars,  the occasional glimpse into a lighted window.

Now you know one of my secrets.

I’m a “house voyeur.”  In my next life,  I should be an architect or an interior designer because I am SO about floor plans,  staircases, the best wall to place the floor-to-ceiling bookcases against.

What color is the dining room?  What kind of drapes are in the study?  Where’s the fireplace?  And, the kitchen.  Didn’t they remodel this room last spring?

I actually prefer it if people are not in their house if I’m walking my dog and oh so casually glancing in one of the windows.  Haven’t the slightest interest in what THEY’RE doing.


The details of how they’ve arranged furniture, placed tables and various room decor pulls at my core being.  In fact, I’d consider it only fair if I had an open-door invitation to tour a dozen or so of the houses that I’ve fallen in love with at my convenience.

Wouldn’t that be a lovely thing?

Maybe I’ve missed my calling and should consider getting into real estate.


Too many hoops to jump through at this stage of my life.  Walking my dogs is so much easier and I can appease my “decor hunger” almost instantly.  Doesn’t even have to be the inside of the house.  I’m happy with front porches, dormer windows,  turn-of-the-century homes with small barns in the back yard instead of garages.

My daytime eye candy.

There’s a line from a Shakespeare play that goes like this:  “If I am content with a little, enough is as good as a feast.”  When it comes to walking my dogs,  this little bit of harmless pleasure is more than enough for me.   [gplus count=”true” size=”Medium” ]



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