I’m lazy. There’s no couching it politely or pretending it’s not true. I can make a sloth nervous.
Since there’s been no compelling need to drive me, I have not been getting any regular exercise. I know better. I’ve intended all along to incorporate daily activity into my routine. I just haven’t done it yet.
Any time I weighed the decision of adopting a new dog, I reminded myself how much I hated the daily chore of walking one. But sometimes, too, I would find myself thinking “and that will get you off your lazy butt and outdoors.”
See, with the last dog I discovered something interesting. While I dreaded the need to get her out for a walk, about halfway through our course I would usually begin really to relax and enjoy the walk myself. I almost always ended up glad I was out and doing, but somehow that memory wasn’t enough to motivate me the next day.
Well the new dog is now a reality. We’re scoping out the neighborhood nose-first once again. This dog behaves differently. The demands of the walk are different. But the same old magic is still there. It always ends up doing more good for me than for the dog.
Good dog.