Another Day, Another Dog Walk

“Well at least I know the alarm still works,” I think as I silence my phone.

I savor a few extra minutes under the covers, but I know I can’t dally too long. The reason for that is now waking up next to me and the first item on her to-do list is always to give me a wet kiss and promptly plop the whole of her body weight onto my chest.

"Oof, good morning, River," I say as I try to push her off my face. "How did you sleep?"

She doesn't usually say much, so I have to make up responses on her behalf.

"You had a dream that you had unlimited access to a cheese, bacon, and peanut butter distribution center? And there was an emergency that required all of the inventory to be eaten as fast as possible? Wow that is a good dream."

My day officially starts when I brave the chilly world outside of my bed. I'll believe winter's over when I don't have put on sweats and a hoody as soon as I wake up every morning. Once I get myself dressed and go to the bathroom, the next order of business is getting the dog out for the first time. It's especially during the colder months that I wish I had a yard so I didn't also have to go outside every time she needed to pee and poop. No point in complaining, though.

"All right, River. Let's go," I say for the fifth time as she stares at me from the warmth of the bed.

Finally, she gets up and I put her harness, collar, and jacket on her, and out we go. When it's below 40 degrees out she usually finds a spot just off the porch to pee and then wants to go back in. No arguments here.

I'm working from home today, so the rest of the day consists of me sitting at my desk and River lying on the couch only to get up every now and then to check if that one patch of sunlight that crawls across my bedroom floor is in a good spot yet.

At lunch, I take her out for another walk. This time we go a little farther, venturing into the adjacent neighborhoods. River gets wound up pretty easily, especially when she sees another dog, so I've been working on taking time-outs during the walk to find a calming moment.

"River, sit."

Saying this makes her look around nervously to check her surroundings. Because why would I tell her to sit if there was nothing around to bark at? Eventually she sits, but is still looking around. According to the trainer we go to, I should reward her when she gives her attention to me instead of whatever else is going on in the world. When she looks at me I praise her, give her a treat from the pouch clipped to my waistband, and we resume our walk. I try to do this every block or so. Sometimes it seems like it's working, other times not so much.

I finish out the work day, which has been the same as almost every work day before it and probably all the ones to come. The only thing that kind of gets me through it is talking shit with one of my coworkers in a Teams chat about someone else in our office.

At the end of the workday it is time for our evening walk. This can be a somewhat stressful walk for River because of what I refer to as the post-work pre-dinner dog-walk rush. She manages decently well--only a few outbursts and lunges--and we are back home for dinner.

I settle onto the couch for what I would call some well-deserved TV time. When I finish my food and no longer have a plate to defend, I let River curl up on my lap and we watch another episode.

I get her out for one last walk before bed, and then get ready to go to sleep. Without fail, River jumps in bed before me and lies exactly where I sleep.

"River, we go over this every single night. That's my spot. You can't sleep there because that's where I sleep. Move over to your side of the bed. I'm giving you like a third of my bed. I think that's plenty generous."

If I try to move her by hand she growls and she can move her head really fast, so I started luring her off with a piece of kibble, which I know is setting a dangerous precedent, but one behavioral issue at a time.

I read for a bit before turning the light out. When I'm lying in bed trying to fall asleep is usually when the sadness, emptiness, and loneliness take hold. Since I got River, I can't remember the last time I felt that way.