One thing you’ll never hear from my dogs is, “Walk?? A-GAIN?? Are you *kidding *me? :rolleyes: Get real. Been there - done that.”
Even twice a day, the reaction is closer to this.
What are your dog-walking stories?
My dog is the same. It take a LOT to get him to refuse a walk - usually something like 6 to 8 hours of backcountry skiing with my husband where the dog is in deep snow and following them up and down the slope. When he gets home after that, he is usually sleeping most of the next day even.
Back in the '90s I took a picture of our two dogs (a scotty and a basset) who were “doing their business” back-to-back, like defecating book ends.
Don’t have the picture any more. 
When it’s in the 90s, my dog will sometimes go out, walk half a block and say, ok, I’m done here and book it back to the house or just flop down and refuse to proceed forward. He’s almost 2.
Every day, around the same time (“Dog-o’clock”), my 2 dogs start jumping around and poking their heads around the corner (not allowed in the “house”, just the anti-chamber or “mudroom”) and once in a while whine or bark a little. They know! Its time!
Load them up in something and haul them to the end of the road and they nearly knock me out of the door when I open it and Bang! They’re OFF!
Little farts will run up to a couple miles. They love it! I have to drive behind them, or there is no way I could keep up on foot or bicycle (not that I would want to). The little one makes me hit second gear! Once out in the open desert, we’ll stop and then the real fun starts. They start digging towards China.
One day, they found a rattlesnake. Smart enough to stay back. Another time, the little one tried to attack a wild horse. Close call, that! Every day, they chase Jackrabbits in vain. Too fast even for the little one.
Its gotten to the point where it is pretty tedious due to the silt dust, heat and wind. But if you don’t take these little entitled bastards every day they give you the Wicked Stinkeye.
Damn dogs! More trouble than they’re worth! 
I don’t know if I was some how subconsciously cuing her, but I had a golden retriever that knew the difference between “do you want to go for a walk” versus “do you want to go for a ride?” One she would go to where her lead was stored and the other she would go to the car. Excited as hell either way.
My golden is 11 and she still freaks out about walks the same as when she was 2.
First she stares and barks at me when she knows it’s walk time and I’m not going fast enough. She barks and jumps while I put on her collar.
She has a retractable leash and she grabs it and whips it around while we’re in the house, and while we’re in the yard, and while we walk down the driveway. Well I walk, she hops and dances. The leash gets full of dog slime then it gets covered in hair, and then she wraps it around her nose and it gets to be a crazy mess.
When I tell her “Ok, let’s walk now!” (once we’ve gotten to the street) she snaps out of it and carries on as if nothing weird just happened.
Seriously, she must be absolutely exhausted by the time her dance is done (my driveway’s like 80’ long). I don’t know how we even make it around the block.
I’ve never been able to correct this excitement, either. No amount of yelling or scolding slows her down. She just gets excited and loses her shit. At this point, she’s so old, we just go with it.
I’m a cigar smoker. I do not smoke in the house so I smoke a cigar when I walk the dog. Whenever I go to my humidor the dog goes to the front door expecting a walk. When it’s raining I’ll have my cigar out on the lanai. When I’m finished, the dog will still be sitting there at the front door.
All you people with the dogs that get apeshit crazy excited about going for a walk or a ride in the car: Do you remember when you last got that apeshit crazy excited about something? Don’t you wish you still did?
Watching dogs get all that excited is just like . . . well, watching dogs get all that excited, with everything that implies.
Miss Lilith tries to pull our arms off when she’s on the leash. My husband will let her off and she heads straight to the retention pond to eat algae and play in the mud. We have to keep an eye out for people approaching, because she really likes to bounce on strangers and snoot them in the butt.
For a dog that the shelter claimed was part lab (she’s not), my dog is absurdly lazy. Her reaction does seem to be, “Really? A walk? We just did this yesterday, guys. Fine, I guess I wasn’t really doing anything important. But whatever it is you need to do out there, make sure you do it right. I’m planning on taking a nap tomorrow and don’t want to be interrupted.” I think it’s because we lived in an apartment with no yard the first couple years we had her and in her mind walks are utilitarian things.
She looses it when she realizes we’re going to sit on the porch, though. If she sees me grab a book and a beer (or hears me doing such from upstairs) she’ll be at the front door in an instant and can contain herself only slightly better than she can on nights we roast a chicken.
My husband takes the baby out in back and walks/excercises him. They leave via the sliding glass doors to the deck. When he (the husband) stands up and lights a cigarette, Baron runs to the door and unlocks it. It’s one of those push down latches that are built into the handle - you push it down to unlock the door latch, and pull it up to lock it. When he’s had enough, he lays down. Wherever he is. Even if it’s all the way on the other side of the retention pond. :rolleyes:
My dogs don’t actually like walks all that much. It’s mostly because the road in front of our house is very busy and loud and it’s a fairly long walk along it until we get to the park.
They prefer going to the backyard and chasing their frisbee for hours on end. We’re moving next year and since it will likely be a few months in the new house before the grading is completed and we’re allowed to build a fence I’m a little concerned about this. Luckily the new house is on a very small cul-de-sac and close to a set of walking trails but it’s going to be new tricks for my getting pretty old dogs.
This is so true. For dogs, every day is the kind of Saturday you remember from about age 8, when you first became aware that Saturday was different from School Days.
I love the pics! And I thought my dog Xena (of blessed memory) was the only one who ever pulled a whole pork loin off the counter. We were in the dining room eating and if she had stayed in the kitchen with it, she probably could have eaten most of it. But she carried it into the living room where we all looked at her and said, “What’s that thing that Xena’s got? Is it a football?” No-o-o-o-o… it was the whole danged pork loin. She was a handful.
My dog can tell the difference between normal clothes and running clothes.
If I walk downstairs wearing jeans or pyjamas or something she couldn’t care less. If I’m wearing Coolmax she goes out of her mind and won’t leave my side until the harness & leash are on and we’re out the door for a run.
I have one that will get his lease and drop in my lap if I am a bit late that day.
I can’t even touch Winchester’s leash, or he goes batshit. Sometimes I’ll bump against it and make it jingle and then I have to spend the next twenty minutes listening to disappointed sighing and beagle sass.
Because he’s at least part hound, actual walks are a near-impossibility. He’s got to stop every four steps and smell everything within reach. So his trips outside are usually pretty business-oriented. I know he recognizes the words “dog park,” but I don’t know if he’s yet connected that it means the big place with the other dogs, or if he just knows that, like “outside,” “walkies,” “poop,” and “baggie,” it means he’s going somewhere.
Sometimes when I get a belt out of the closet to put on, the doggies go ape shit *thinking *it’s a leash.
This is cracking me up! 
I’ve probably told this story before, but what they heck. It amuses me.
I was making my husband’s favorite appetizer - ground beef, breakfast sausage (both browned), some other stuff that’s irrelevant and one pound of Velveeta Cheese that you melt into it (then you put it on cocktail rye and broil it till bubbly) and had just cut the one third off of the big 3 lb. Velveeta Slab. It was sitting on a paper plate on the table. I turned my back for maybe thirty seconds to wrap up the remaining two pounds and turned around - it was gone. And he was sitting on the floor licking his chops. He had never EVER taken anything off the table or counter before - just Velveeta. Go figure.