Homebodies - The daily walk is good for all

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By Rita Friesen

It was easy to walk the dogs in the winter. Strong guidelines kept us safe. No walking if the temp was a solid -22°C, and never if the wind chill made it feel like -30°C. We didn’t miss many days. 

Spring, of course, was a breeze. It was wonderfully relaxing and invigorating to take the pets for a gallop. We could cover respectable distances and still have get up to go. 

Ah, but summer. It has been more challenging to make walking the dogs a part of my daily routine. Partly due to the fact that I am getting plenty of exercise with yard work. Partly due to the fact that I am not enthralled with heat. Especially muggy heat. 

It was drawn to my attention that early morning was an ideal time to get out and get moving. Perhaps it would be. If I was a morning person. I’m not. By the time the day has cooled enough to be enjoyable, not simply endurable, I am ready to do a bit of nothing. I am tired. 

As I sit and relax my mutts whine for more food. Like me. And so, for their sake and mine I rattle the leads and call out ‘car’. Their enthusiasm moves me. And so we hasten to the car. Henry Hoover insists on sitting on the console. Not unlike King Henry of old, he stares disdainfully at those beneath him. Miss Daisy  knows her place is in the back, but still hopes to usurp the royal ruler. I am not totally in favour of her gaining the vantage point. She drools in anticipation! Not the quality of a desirable seatmate. 

They know the routine and H. Hoover maintains a stoic demeanour until we pass the second of the set of lights on our journey. He fairly vibrates with eagerness and his sister fogs the windows and leaves nose smudges as high as she can reach.

“We” have improved our behaviour when meeting humans on the way. “We” have not improved our behaviour when we meet other canines. Or spot one in the distance, or even hear one challenging our presence. The truth is that even a pre-sunset walk is beneficial. I am not as tired when we turn homeward as I was when we set out. I relate to a quote from “How pets help us cope”, in an old Reader’s Digest – “I’ve always suspected that the famous five stages of grief – denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance – aren’t stages at all. Instead they are random responses to loss and despair. They come and go in no particular order. Even so, I’m all for proposing a sixth stage: buying a puppy.” I am grateful that my little companions have helped fill ‘an awful leisure’ – the grief of living after the death of a loved one. The daily walk is good for all three of us.