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Last year, I was quite an awesome dog mommy.  I walked my dog dutifully a good 4-5 times per week.  And I’m not just talking about walking to the poop park and back, or taking a stingy walk around the block.  I’m talking about long, leisurely strolls to Starbucks, winding our way through quaint neighborhoods, and exploring stretches of untamed wild lands.  Ok, they weren’t really “wild” lands, but to my yellow bellied coward, for whom a foray through a true wilderness would be far too terrifying, the stretch of tangled bushes intertwined with unkempt trees fills the need to be wild and carefree, without the attendant risks.

Needless to say, by the end of last summer, my cute, adorable, pampered pooch was slim, trim, and very content.

Alas, mommy dropped the ball once the fall weather hit, and she did not pick it up until earlier this month.

You see, I have a problem, well, I now have two problems, but prior to this year, I only had one problem.

My initial problem was that I do not enjoy walking in rainy, dreary and/or cold weather.

Hence my appalling performance as a puppy dog mommy this year.

You can well imagine the excitement on my now chubby yellow lab’s face when I jingled her collar and leash yesterday for what was to be her second decent walk this week.  I mean, can you imagine, two walks in one week?!?!

Unfortunately, in no small part due to the aforementioned ball dropping on my part, my yellow bellied coward is now well and truly out of shape.  And, she doesn’t tolerate the warmth well.  Last year, she was good at sub-100 degree weather, this year I’ve discovered, anything above 70 degrees is too much.

Which is why we found ourselves sitting at a now familiar spot, approximately 3/4 of the way home, waiting for a poochie-cab – otherwise known as – Daddy coming to pick up her yellow majesty after she suddenly decides she can’t take another step.

I feel bad, I know I’m partly (ok, hugely) to blame for her rapid fatigue on what used to be, pun intended, a walk in the park.

However, the requisite criteria for walking my dog seem to be increasing with every year.

Whereas once upon a time we merely needed a clear sky and moderate temperatures.  I find we now need a clear sky, low to moderate temperatures, and the ‘at the drop of the hat’ availability of taxi cab transport, just in case……

Not to mention that I am not convinced I am not being played for a fool.  For yesterday, after her majesty received her royal transport back home (while mommy completed the walk unaccompanied) rumor has it, she lept from the car and ran around like a wild lunatic, displaying a decided lack of fatigue………

I love my dog, I truly do, but occasionally, I pine for a Chihuahua – you know, a dog who isn’t scared of her own shadow, who will bark when a stranger comes to the door, and possesses a boundless supply of energy.  I mean, can you see a feisty Chihuahua plopping down on the grass (in front of all the other dogs) and demanding a cab whilst her mommy traipsed home without canine protection?  I don’t think so.  Worst case scenario, she could stowaway in my shirt and growl at passerby while the yellow bellied coward caught the backup taxi home 🙂

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