In a way, dog walkers are like miners – we take substances which are locked up deep inside some cave and remove it to a more agreeable location. We are also like stock brokers – we seek the most auspicious situation from which to profit from anticipated developments. Also we are like outfielders – the moment some bolus hits the grass, we try to snatch it up and throw it out. Substances, developments, bolus – all fancy words for poop.
Dogs will always pee on things. A dry dog in a dessert will still lift his leg at a cactus, even if he doesn’t have a drop to spare. Some dogs create great lakes in their living rooms on a regular basis (I’m calling you out, Dudley) while others would never dream of committing so heinous an impropriety. Some dogs mark every tree as if they were straddling a spray can, while others go only once, and only when there’s no one around. It’s really quite intricate, but even so, #1 is only half as vexing as #2.
I always feel a little bad if a walk is not fruitful, so to speak. It’s a little embarrassing to have to write “1 only” under the “I was a good dog and went number” line on the Doggie Diary. Of course, I can’t make a dog poop, even if I have at times wondered if there isn’t some kung-fu move that I could deploy that would (harmlessly) hit some pressure points to align the dogs chi, and thus his bowels. Some dogs observe a regular daily schedule that is simply out of sync with my own walking schedule. Other dogs get too busy smelling things, or staring at squirrels, or skipping around like caffeinated crickets. Some dogs get blocked up with diets of stuffed animals and socks, while others require a crossword and a quite corner of their own back yard. I do what I can to encourage their every success, but ultimately, it’s a battle they each must fight alone.
And what a fight it is sometimes. To be continued……