On the way home from school today I saw Mrs. Dahlin, who lives near us. She and her husband are really nice, and best of all, they’re the people who have Baxter. I asked Mrs. Dahlin if I could walk him later, and she said yes.
I’ve played with Baxter a lot, and I’ve played with a lot of other dogs, too. But I never actually took any of them for a walk. I’ve been with people and their dogs on a walk. I know what happens. But I’ve never been in charge of it.
If I tell my mom I’m going to walk Baxter she’ll be glad, because she thinks I only think I want a dog, and if I see how much work it is, I’ll get over it. I actually don’t think I will.
But I am a little nervous. What if Baxter doesn’t want to go with me? What if he runs away? What if he gets into a fight with another dog?
I rang the doorbell, and Baxter started barking. I’m not worried anymore. I know Baxter, and Baxter knows me. We’re friends. Who wouldn’t want to go for a walk with a friend?
In my dog podcast (www.SeanRosen.com/dogs), I ask people if their dogs want to get walked more often than they do get walked. Almost everyone says yes. But I didn’t ask the dogs.
Do people really know what their dogs think, or do they just think they do? I bet they’re wrong sometimes. Like my parents. With me, I mean.
Last week my mom came home from the store and said she got me my favorite cookies. I think she wanted me to help unpack the bags. When I finally got to the cookies, I couldn’t believe it.
“You think these are my favorites?”
“They’re not?”
“No.”
“They were.”
“For like a week. Like four or five years ago.”
“And now you hate them?”
“They’re okay. They’re definitely not my favorites.”
“Is this your creative way of saying thank you?”
I wasn’t sure I should thank her. She doesn’t know my favorites. Her guess was way off. She got me excited for nothing. And I unpacked three bags of groceries before I figured it out.
“Thank you, Mom.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll try to stay up-to-date on your preferences.”
“Okay.”
“Shall I return these cookies?”
“You don’t have to.”
“I can.”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I want one now.”
Mrs. Dahlin opened the door, and Baxter jumped on me to say hello. Mrs. Dahlin said, “Hi, Sean. As you can see, Baxter is very excited about your walk.”
“Oh, good. I am too.”
“I usually take him out by now, but since I knew you were going to, I didn’t.”
I was sort of hoping Mrs. Dahlin already took Baxter out to do his business, so he and I could just have a nice relaxing walk. Oh, well. “Is there anything I should know?”
“If you can, have him poop in the street. You know, instead of on someone’s lawn.”
“How do I get him to do that?”
“Oh . . . you know . . . just stay in the street. Not the middle of the street, of course. He’ll want to get on the grass. He can poop on the grass in the park, but I don’t think he’s gonna make it till you get there. Did you bring a bag?”
“A bag?”
“For the poop.”
“Oh. Actually I didn’t.”
“Don’t worry. Here you go. Take three, just in case.”
“Three?”
“He hardly ever poops three times, but you don’t want to run out of bags.”
“No, I don’t. This might be a really stupid question, but how do you . . . you know . . . get it into the bag?”
“Easy-peasy. You put your hand in the bag, like this, and just pick up the poop, like the bag is a glove. Then you turn the bag inside out. You never have to touch the poop. Unless there’s a hole in the bag.”
I started looking at the plastic bags.
“Don’t worry, Sean. I checked these. Then you just drop it in the garbage.”
“Any garbage?”
“Maybe wait until you get to the park. People are funny about dog poop in their trash bins, even if it’s bagged. Just bring it to the park. It’ll keep your hands warm. Okay, you two should get going. Baxter’s more than ready. Shall I put his leash on?”
“No. I will.” If I’m going to do this, I might as well really do it.
It was a little hard to get the leash on because Baxter was jumping around, and I had all these plastic bags. I was going to ask for a fourth bag just in case, but once the leash was on, Baxter dragged me out the door.
Baxter was pulling me a little faster than I wanted to go. Even though I’m bigger than him, he decides. I kept us in the street, which wasn’t very easy. Just like Mrs. Dahlin said, Baxter kept pulling me toward people’s lawns.
We didn’t get very far when Baxter stopped, and started pooping. I wasn’t sure if I should watch or not. Do dogs like to have privacy? Just to be safe, I looked the other way. Then I felt a tug on the leash. I didn’t know how I would know when he was finished, but it was easy to tell. He just walked away from it. I wish I could, too.
“Wait a sec, Baxter.” I took one of the plastic bags out of my pocket, and I looked at the poop in the street. I thought about leaving it there, and I even thought about whether poop has DNA in it, so it could be traced back to Baxter, but only for a few seconds. If I’m ever going to have a dog, I have to be able to do this.
I wanted to hold my nose, but I had the plastic bag in one hand and Baxter’s leash in the other. So I just did it the way Mrs. Dahlin showed me. It works.
It ended up being a very relaxing walk. I threw away the bag of poop when we got to the park. It didn’t keep my hand warm. Mrs. Dahlin probably holds the bag a different way.