Friday the 27th. February.
6 pm
Bubba is being difficult with the medication. I’m going to have to change it up during treats time. We’ll get this done.
4:35 pm
Buddy and I went for a walk. He took us up to the top of the hill. It was a perfect evening for it.
We walked 35 minutes, and he pooped. Bubba stayed home to sleep.
1:10 pm
Buddy was curled up on the back of the couch. Bubba was in the fireplace bed. Bubba suddenly stood up, stepped half way out of the bed and stretched. Somehow, Buddy saw something in Bubba’s body language that said, “we’re walking.” I’ve witnessed this before, and I still don’t get it.
Buddy instantly jumped off the couch, excited by whatever signal Bubba was putting off that indicated a walk was coming.
We went across the park, walked through the neighborhood past the pool and home. It was slow with a ton of sniffing. It is getting quite warm, and I’ll need to start carrying water if it gets any hotter. We walked about 50 minutes. Bubba pooped, Buddy did not.
9:45 am
Buddy and I walked. Bubba got up when we started getting Buddy dressed, but he wouldn’t let me get near him with the harness. He then made it understood that it was my job to put him on the couch so he could nap at elevation.
The walk got us across the street, but it was just a bathroom break. After his poop, we started into the memorial and it seemed like we were going on a real walk, but Buddy froze up and then wanted to go home. We only walked about 15 minutes, but half of that was visiting with Greg and Petunia.
9 am
The guys were still not ready to get up. I put out the food, and went to rub the layers of salt residue that had accumulated on my car because of lack of being cared for for far-too-long. It was already getting uncomfortably warm out.
8 am
It was way too early. I wasn’t ready yet, and I needed my coffee. But the only mug I will use was sitting on the coffee table at Bubba’s house. If I went to get it, the guys would want to walk for sure, and I was in no shape. I put a different mug into the Keurig, stared at it for a moment, and became suddenly aware of how attached I am to my coffee mug, like a child’s security blanket. I would just have to risk a trip next door.
But the guys were no more ready for me than I was for the day. I had forgotten: this was post-groomer day. Two solid hours of play time with a host of other dogs always wears them out, and there’s hangover the next day. They weren’t getting up. I was able to grab my coffee mug without being impressed into service.