Spot, Spot, Spot

 One of the nice things about have 2 personal valets are the daily walks (weather permitting). I truly do enjoy my walks. Look forward to them every morning and then sometimes (weather permitting) we go on an evening walk. That's handy for catching up on the pee-mail responses of the morning because there's a lot of drama in the neighbor circuit about the liver colored pointer on the flexi-leash, and the two yappy dogs and whether or not there's a "thing" going on... I'm just reporting the news as I sniff it.

In the morning, the humans must drink their hot bean water and sit on the drinking fountain before walk time. I know it is close to walk time as Toast puts on his pants. Once the pants are on, he'll put on socks and shoes. I cannot be harnessed before the socks and shoes because I like to stomp once my harness is on. Many a time have I stomped on Toast's toes... that does not go over well at all.

So, once Toast has his socks and shoes on, Bleeder will take down my harness and announce "Spot, spot spot", and I skitter into the bedroom to my spot and wait.

Over the head, lift right front foot, front strap back strap, check back strap placement, front strap placement, neck part, collar not under neck part, then a pat on the butt and I'm ready to stomp... and rub. I stomp very loudly, and I rub against walls, the bed, humans, my crate, kitchen chairs, the table, whatever is in my way... until I rubbed up against the dresser drawers in the bedroom... 

My harness got caught in the door pull, and the whole thing exploded. Ok, so I freaked out a little and may have bolted and wrenched the bottom drawer out, which lead to structural integrity issues that cause the whole dresser to tilt precariously and fling all three drawers out. Easy fix I'm sure, but how about we go on a walk first, it can wait.

Bleeder put her "sticky shoes" on. The Sticky Shoes are the very grippy shoes that keep me from dragging her down the street when something catches my fancy (a stick, a human three blocks away, a rabbit, any woodland creature, birds, a discarded half eaten chicken wing, a leaf, that sketchy smear in the road... etc.).

Off we went. There was muttering along our walk about the possibility of having to purchase another dresser, interspersed with "leave it", "STAHP", "LEAVE IT", "SERIOUSLY", "COME", and "POOP".  The "poop" isn't a command, it's a notice to Toast that his plastic bag duties are required. I prefer to poop in a large circle in the wild, and prefer longer grass rather than low cut grass, and will choose someone's lawn rather than the curb grass, which gives Toast the added thrill of locating each piece and then trying to extract it cleanly from the blades of someone's lawn. I also prefer to wait until we get to Poo corner. It's shaded, and cooler.

Once home again, there was a conference that I wasn't invited to about the dresser. Toast felt it was utterly ruined, and Bleeder felt that with her awesome set of tools it would buff right out, so she set to work, and sure enough... it's back together again.

Our walking ritual has been changed up a bit, as now after I have been released to stomp and rub... Bleeder stands in front of the dresser.