It’s fun to walk. Especially when you’re dragging a dog with you. Or, in the case of labrador retrievers, being dragged. Until they poop, because technically, when a dog poops – when a BIG dog poops – your stomach turns because this is what soft serve is supposed to look like, and you’re scooping it up from the sidewalk with a plastic bag that you begged from the lady in the sari-sari store whose storefront your dog defiled.
I wonder if my dogs appreciate the value of walking as much as I do when I get back home, exhausted because of their incessant pulling (that stops halfway across Nagtahan bridge because the dogs are more out of shape than I am, which is frightening, because once their stamina catches up, I’m in for a ride).
I’m listening to Pia Guanio and Allan K as I type this, one of the perks of holding office at the comfort of my own home, but at the back of my head, as I type, I’m thinking is it maybe time to feed the dogs again, because they can finish a bowl of doggie chow in less than a minute, and it’s a shame that dog chow is expensive that way.
But it’s more fun to walk with a dog in tow (or being towed by a dog?).