When we first adopted the dogs, Kris would faithfully take them for walks every morning before work and every evening before bed. I would join him on some of the walks, which would then be wonderful together time when we'd talk about our days coming up or our days just past. The walks would range from the I'm-in-a-hurry 20 minutes to the usual 60 minutes walk through the neighborhood to find houses for sale but not yet on the market. Eventually the 60 minute walks twice a day drifted into 30 minutes twice a day into 20 minutes maybe twice a day.
Not nearly enough exercise for a beagle. Not by far.
When I found the all-day, off-leash hiking opportunity for Annie, and Kris arranged to make it happen, Annie started getting enough walking in on that one day for us to feel less guilty about the shorter walks Annie was getting, but not so about Bella. Guy's being around this summer helped a lot with Bella, one of his tasks being walking the dogs, but he's now back to school, and the girls need their walkin' again. Worse, on Tuesday mornings when I leave to go to work, Bella knows that Kris has left with Annie, and that I'm leaving her for the day, so she sits at the door and looks up at me with the saddest look on her face. She's cute. She's adorable. And she's doing her damnedest to break my heart so that maybe, maybe!, I'll take her with me and not leave her alone all day.
This morning, I decided to skip my usual yoga-pilates fusion class and take Bella for a hike at a local open space preserve. She needed the exercise. I needed the exercise and, more importantly, didn't need to see The Face™ as I left for work this morning. A hike would do the trick, I figured.
We went where we go frequently enough that I know the hike would be less than two hours long, more likely like one hour long. More importantly, the trailed we'd be on is one I feel comfortable going on alone, or with just a dog. I nearly wimped out this morning, having been sick yesterday, but realized the guilt over not going would be worse than any stress of a time crunch from going, so off Bella and I went at 7:35 AM.
The hike was mostly uneventful. The lighting of the morning was much different than the lighting of our usual hiking time that I didn't quite recognize some of the paths, which is odd, as I figured I knew the trail fairly well. The trail is a hike from the lot to a loop, around the loop, and back down the trail again to the parking lot. Bella pooped on the way up to the loop and, rather than carrying the poop in a bag for the upcoming two and a half miles, I set the poop bag down on a post to pickup on my way back down. Unfortunately, by the time I arrived with Bella at the post after the hike, the poop bag was gone. Kris and I are particularly good dog owners: we pick up our dogs' crap. We even pick up other dogs' crap when we see it at the school. We've also been known to pick up poop bags (like the one I left) from other dog owners, so that non-owners won't have cause to complain about dogs and potentially revoke dogs' rights to be on the trail.
Apparently, someone else is also a good dog owner and picked up Bella's poop bag full of her poop. To this person: thank you for picking up my dog's poop bag. I'm sorry you managed to get there before I did, as I was going to get it on my way down. Please know that, yes, I do clean up after my dog, and that, next time I have the chance, I, too, will pay it forward.
We drove home, Bella doing her best to dirty up my car with her dusty little feet, and my trying to stop her with various seat covers and towels. She won.
After showering and eating, I started packing up to leave for work. It was then that I turned and noticed Bella sitting in the living room watching me. I gathered up my stuff and walked to the door, watching her as I went. When I opened the door and turned back to say good bye, I realized the walk had been in vain: she was still giving me the saddest dog in all the world face.
She was still giving me The Face™.
