I walk our older dog, Mugsy, every day at ten. I could write an in depth post about the science, and art, of dog walking in my house. But I’m trying to cut down on my need for exposition.
Some days when I walk her I listen to music. Other days I listen to podcasts. But these are only on the days when I don’t call my friend, S, to chat with her. On the days I’m not talking to S I might snap a picture or two. I live in a very rural place. Not just by definition but we seriously embrace the rural lifestyle around here. This is evident by the number of dogs who are just chillin’ in driveways. Some of whom will randomly join us for portions of our walk (like our friend, Lola, who you’ve probably seen if you follow me on InstaGram). Yesterday we made a new random dog friend, Fischer. When I talk to S, I don’t take pictures. I can barely walk the dog and talk at the same time.
Yesterday was one of those days when I was talking to S. At one point, as Mugsy and I were walking, a chicken began to cross the road in front of us.
I’ll let that sink in.
A chicken. Crossed the road. In front of us.
If it happens again I’ll need to get a picture or video.