Walking the Dogs

I’ve had a pretty negative attitude towards the dogs since we got them a month ago. They’ve taken the liberty to turn my entire apartment into their bathroom and have annoyed me with their barking at random hours of the night when they hear a car or just feel like waking me up. For a while I’ve wanted a dog, just not these particular rats, but I’m stuck with them so I thought that maybe I could turn them into the pets that I’ve always wanted, dogs I could take on long walks and play fetch with, so I decided to so something today that I hadn’t done before, take them for a walk, sure I’ve taken them outside to try and get them to use the bathroom off of my carpet, but they haven’t been on a proper walk like the civilized dogs I expect them to be, for a couple of reasons. First, like me they are scared of pretty much everything, so when they see cars or people they react out of fear and bark uncontrollably at these things, and since I live in an apartment complex with people and cars everywhere, and the sidewalk I would walk them on is right beside a road, I figured it would probably be a disastrous attempt, full of barking and holding the leash so they don’t try to attack anything. Secondly, it’s a struggle just taking Mocha out to use the bathroom, because more often than not she will just lay down in the grass and refuse to move. I genuinely think she might be mentally challenged. But this afternoon I decided against my better judgement to attempt a walk, and it went terribly.

Before we started the walk I let them use the bathroom, so they could remain fully focused on the task at hand instead of sniffing around the sidewalk every couple of feet, which by the way, didn’t work at all. I don’t have the type of dogs who will walk in step with me, I have dogs that will stop and smell every patch of grass along the path while I continue walking, trying to drag them along. About two minutes into the walk, Jack decided to poop in a flower bed, and as the responsible dog owner, it is my job to pick it up in a little plastic bag, which I did begrudgingly. We were too far from the apartments to turn back so I could dispose of the poop in the dumpster, so the walk continued, holding the leash with one hand and a bag of poop in the other. I never thought my life would turn out like this.

The leash we have is split at the end so each dog is attached to it, so unless they’re walking in sync, one of the dogs is always getting pulled by the other one, and since Mocha is the smaller of the two, she is usually the one being dragged. Multiple times on our journey Mocha decided to just plop down in the grass, not the least bit interested in finishing the walk, so I had to keep pulling the leash to maker her get up. I thought I was in pretty bad shape, but five minutes into the walk, both dogs were panting like they’d just finished a marathon. I decided it was over when we got to a bush with those little red berries that may or may not be poisonous and jack buried himself in the bush, looking for a snack. I wish I were the type of heartless person that would have let him eat the berries and solve my dog problem for me, but my compassionate side pulled him away from the bush and back towards the apartment. We made it back, lesson learned. I don’t think I’ll be taking them on another walk anytime soon.

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