Ruff Haus

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The Dog, Walking The Dog

I'm watching a friend's Daschund right now. His name is Louie and he's super cute. The first night we had him, he was so quiet and had no personality. But as the days go on, his personality is really starting to come out. He is a cuddle bug and just generally a happy guy. He was a bit intimidated by my husband at first, but last night when he moved Louie over to my lap so he could run to the bathroom real quick, Louie turned right around and climbed back into Steve's lap before he could get off the couch. I think they are bonding.

I take my dogs for a walk just about every weekday morning.

We have our usual routine. Quigley is always right by my left side and Pamela to the left of Quig. We stop at a few choice sniff and potty spots that we have agreed on over time, and sometimes we mix it up a bit, but not too much. We all like the routine, it works and it gets us done in time for getting to the office. Having Louie has made the routine a little more interesting and not so routine. The first day he just couldn't figure out his place... Should he walk behind everyone? Should he be to the left of Pamela? Sandwiched between Quig and Pam? I encouraged him to the far outside since that would put him in his proper "rank" in the pack. It worked. This morning I was struggling with the tangle of leashes and various lengths when I got a bright idea. Why not have Pamela walk Louie? So I took Louie's leash and fashioned it into a harness for Pamela, setting it up so Louie could walk to her left with a little wiggle room for maneuvering variations in the terrain and voila! We were in business. Pamela seemed to really take to her new role as the dog walker, slowing down if Louie was a bit behind. She even seemed to change her posture as if she was happy to have a job.

There was one little flaw in my configuration that I discovered after the minor mishap... I'm sure you'll see this coming.

We walked past a sign, you know a pole in the ground. Louie went left and Pamela, of course, stayed to the right. We all stopped dead in our tracks. I had to untangle Louie and as we started back on our way he gave a little "I need to shake that off" shake and got right back in line. Up the road... another pole. This time I was careful to watch and what did I see? Louie, making a deliberate decision to go to the right of the pole and stick with his walker. We were all so proud. Pamela, the dog walker, in particular.