Walkies!

Our dog, Che, has adapted to life in a city pretty well. The one thing that has affected him the most, though, is that he doesn't have a big yard to run around in. When we lived in SA, we lived in a corner lot in a trailer park, and our trailer was up against the far side of the lot, so Che had a ton of room to run around in. Plus there were always dogs next door with whom he could run up and down along side the fence with.

Here, not so much. We do have the luxury of a wee yard, but it really works more as an outhouse than a playground. And no dogs next door either. So the poor little guy has, um, put on some weight since we've moved here.

Which means the only way for him to get regular exercise is to take him for walks. Luckily, the mere mention of a w-a-l-k sends him into paroxysms of joy, so it's not like you have to convince him. Rather, the hard part is reining him in once you get going. We let him run out the leash but pull him back when we go past driveways or near people. It's the people that are the real question marks here.

Che has dark ears and a white muzzle. One ear flops over, and his tail is the curling-up kind. He looks a lot different from most of the dogs in our neighborhood, which appear to all be some sort of variant of pit bull. So the people we walk past don't know what to make of him. The guess is either that he is a husky (er, no) or a wolf (HAHAHAHAHA). The last part I used to try to correct people on, but then I thought maybe it's best that the neighborhood kids think that there is a real live wolf hanging out in our yard. So I close my ears to the murmurs of "esta un lobo alli!" when we walk down the street.