Walking

One of my resolution for my 'new life' is to take exercise a bit more seriously. I have always quite enjoyed walking and when I had my lovely dog, Lucy we both enjoyed it very much. The times in my life when I loved walking and walked for miles were when I had a dog to go with me and when I had a pram to push. Now when I say pram, I don't mean these aerodynamic, lightweight buggy things which require a degree in engineering and origami to unfold them; I mean a proper sturdy pram with a hood and apron and four decent sized wheels, one that would provide a bit of support to the person pushing as well as the baby inside.

However, one can't keep having babies ad infinitum just for the sake of having a pram to push, so eventually I had to graduate to dogs. Paddy (Younger Son's dog really but guess who used to be on walkies duty?) had a mind of his own and after the cuddly puppy stage when he would walk a few yards and then sit in front of me begging to be carried, would generally end up taking me for a walk rather than the other way round. Commands like 'heel', 'slow down' and 'come back you little so and so' meant nothing to him and the idea of passing the time of day with other dogs in a civilised fashion was anathema. No, Paddy was more the canine equivalent of a thug where other dogs were concerned.

In recent years, Lucy became my companion and she too, did not take kindly to sharing the road with other dogs, although she was much more civilised about it than Paddy had been. In addition, Lucy was hard of hearing, a fact which she used to her advantage when she preferred to wander off where the fancy took her. For an old lady with arthritis, she could move surprisingly quickly too. She could spot a cat at 60 paces and chase it at 60 miles an hour.

It's taken me nearly two years since Lucy died to become interested in having another dog and I'm still waiting to hear whether Jake will come to live with us, but if he does, walks will become much more interesting again.