A perfect morning walk

As I have previously noted, my dog and I walk every morning. We have recently adjusted our route, so to make it a mile and a half, and on these July humid mornings, that extra little bit – hurts. It is my exercise and her social time. She takes care of her “business” fairly early on in the walk, so as to not miss any potential exciting bits. Now what passes for routine excitement, actually seems quite mundane to this human. We stop to allow her to sniff almost anything, but of particular interest seems to be the little wispy blooms off a crepe myrtle, which at this point in the summer number in the thousands. And the wispy-ness of the flower means that they blow around easily, so not only does she sniff them, she also chases them. Being a dog, her primary sense organ is her nose, and we do stop to smell many, many things, including the roses, but I do draw the line at picking up anything we have stopped to sniff-- to many strange things in the world.

Typically we walk three laps around the complex, now with the extra bit tacked on. I now track it on this delightful little app, RunKeeper, which is also a walk keeper, and I am amazed at the number of times my dog attempts to convince me that we have already walked enough by prematurely turning into our home. Particularly on painfully hot and humid mornings, even after one lap, she will turn in. And what I find more amazing, is the number of times I follow her, before I realize that the dog may be done, but the technology says there is more to do.

What makes for a perfect puppy walk? Three things. Yellow cat. Journey. Hunting Bunnies.

We hunt bunnies every morning. And since she is on a leash, by hunting I mean staring at them until they run away. She is allowed to chase them, for the length of her 14 foot leash, and then it is done. It is an overwhelmingly delightful morning when one of the bunnies runs in circles, and then she can chase it until I am too dizzy to stand. It is fascinating to watch her with the bunnies. First, is the degree to which she depends upon me to assist her. When I spot a bunny before her, which means it is downwind from her, and I say “there's one,” she actually looks around for the bunny that I see but she doesn't. Second, she is not a member of the hunting group. As a Boxer, the AKC classifies her as a working dog, so when she strikes her hunting stance, sometimes her front paw is raised like a pointer, and other times it is her back paw. Not sure why. But it is entertaining. Third, patience. She has it. I don't. Have stood with her 5 minutes starring at a bunny. Since standing and starring do not burn calories – let's move on.

Some mornings we find Yellow Cat. In our complex all cats are supposed to be indoor cats, and cats are not supposed to be outside. Yellow Cat was abandoned here months ago, and lives in the middle of the complex, supported by all the loving people of the middle of the complex. Those folks feed him, make sure he has water and one has even had a friend who is a Vet Tech come by and take a look at him. He is healthy, neutered, declawed in the front, and now has his current shots. And while they are a willing to care for him, no one is willing to house him. He is very domestic, and really wants to play, particularly with dogs. However, my dog has no experience with cats, and would like to chase him, except Yellow Cat won't run. In fact, Yellow Cat reaches up and pats her face with his declawed paws. This is perplexing for her. So we move on.

And on the best mornings we see Journey. Journey is a younger Boxer that lives in the complex. There are actually two other Boxers in our complex, but Journey is our favorite. And Journey's family must also be at work early in the morning, so they are often out when we are out. The moment we round the corner walking towards Journey's house, my dog begins to sniff the air and scan the horizon for Journey. If I begin to get tugged rapidly down the street, I know that Journey is out. Interestingly, Journey's owner says the same thing happens when he brings her out, Journey begins to scan for us. And when they see one another, they must touch. Now, when two sixty pound dogs decide to touch, there is little you can do about it. When two sixty pound Boxers decide to touch, it is more like a wrestling match. And then it's done. We move on.

A thin place; to be touched by those vastly different than ourselves, to touch those similar to ourselves and to continue seeking what is just beyond our grasp.