Dad's shoes

I keep a close eye on Dad’s shoes cause when he puts them on, it means I might be going for a walk. Sometimes I get to go, sometimes he is going to work or someplace I can’t go. But whenever he grabs his shoes, I give him my hopeful face.

When I don’t get to go, Dad says, “No, sorry Sky,” and then he tells me where he is going. But when it is time for a walk, Dad says, “Okay, let’s go Sky!”

When I hear that I go nuts. I lose my mind. I am so excited. I can’t wait to go. When I see my leash, I know it’s official, I am going—and then I jump around like crazy and start barking and rooing. I knock over things and run into Petey. I go by the door and start jumping on it . . . I can’t wait. I get going so fast that it is really just a blur. At that point, I am not responsible for my actions.

Mom’s worried that I am addicted to walks and said I might have to join DWA (Dog Walks Anonymous). Dad knows stuff about addiction and said his shoes are my trigger. I don’t know what that means, plus I don’t have a problem. I just love walks and want as many as possible.

Sometimes when Dad is going somewhere and I am not allowed to go, he tries to put his shoes on quietly—so I don’t know. But I can hear him. He’s not fooling me. I come running and give him my face (see photo, by Chris Paulus)

Going for walks is the most fun thing I do. It gets 5.0 roos.