Walkies!

Sometimes one ponders grand dreams of the future: Cruising around the world, Curing cancer, Karate chopping your way to a black belt. Sometimes one ponders life on a much simpler level.

Case in point – Dog Potty Time. It can be a lot more complicated than you think. And, yes, I’m feeling a little silly tonight, so bear with me.

JoJo, my fluffy, 4.6-pound Pomeranian is my little couch potato. He lives on his bed, on the couch, during the day. Izzy, my roommate’s ten-pound cranky chihuahua, has her bed atop my overstuffed chair. She even has stairs and can come and go at will. The key words would be “at will.” Both are 14+ years old.

JoJo lets me know when its time to visit the great outdoors. Since his jumping days are over I dutifully pick him up and carry him outside so he may refresh himself. On our daily venturing JoJo and I stop by Miss Izzy to call, coax, and cajole her to follow. She will look at me and drop her head to an “I’m ignoring you” position.

As JoJo finishes his necessaries I, once more, scoop him up, step back into the house, and begin to close the sliding door. Just then that precious chihuahua appears. She stops, looks at me, and slowly meanders across the floor and down the steps. After another moment of hesitation, she makes her way to her favorite spot where she again hesitates, catching a few rays of sunshine, before getting down to business. The return trip is a little faster only because she believes she is due a treat for putting up with me in the first place.

They are my fraternal twins (from different mothers) who look and act totally different. I love them both. They also remind me of some people I’ve known in the past. Anyway, no Cruising, Curing or Karate chopping for me right now. I wrote this when Izzy still lived with me. I kinda miss her.

Care for a walk anyone?

The above has been given a 3-paws-up rating