At the end of a long day, and what sometimes feels like an even longer drive home, I’m greeted by my two favorite characters in the world; Molly the sweetest black lab alive and Rufus, my 40 lb. Corgi-mix-of-several-others (I call him my Mr. Potato Head because all of his parts look like they were tacked on from other species). He is not the sweetest by any means, but adorable nonetheless.

Once home, I struggle to open a crack in the doorway —just big enough for me to get into the house, but not so big as to let them charge through to the outside—as they step on each other to get to me. Once in the door, I’m happy to see tails wagging, Molly offering me one of her toys  and Rufus sitting patiently, but excitedly, waiting for me to crouch down to pet him.

It’s feeding time for them, then feeding time for me (notice the order of the feeding), then it’s treat time for all of us (different treats of course). Where I hope that this daily routine is the beginning to the end of my responsibilities for a while and that I can simply coast for the rest of the evening, I am very quickly reminded that I’m not yet off the clock.

It begins with a look from Molly as she casts a “side-eye” that tells me that no matter how tired I feel, no matter how long my day was and equally of no matter is that I am the “master” of the house (perhaps in my own mind), I have yet one more duty to perform . . . it is time to walk!

My offering up a dog leash is for Molly, like winning the lottery! She races to the door and back to me three times before I can reach the door. Her ears are perked up and her excited bark tells me she’s ready to go; subtlety after all, is not Molly’s strong suit. I am driven by guilt into changing into my walking shoes which raises the level of excitement even more. Rufus is there too, although overshadowed by Her Majesty, and both are ready to harness up and go.

We begin the dance of the harnesses. Head through first . . . 2, 3, 4, twirl . . . 2, 3, 4, side step . . . 2, 3, 4, wrestle dog still to clip harness . . . 2, 3, 4. Repeat. By now, I’m exhausted and questioning my intentions; whose idea was this anyway?  I grab my phone, my keys, the all-important pickup bags, my good friends and we’re off.

Once the initial leap out the front door and the nightly detangling of the leashes has been completed, we begin our journey, and after the every-three-feet-stop-and-sniffs are out of the way, we begin to find our stride. Soon, the stress of the day begins to melt as I notice the warm breeze and the smell of freshly cut grass nearby.  I begin to relax and breathe the fresh air. I hear sounds from the many different birds all around as well as the giggles of the kids playing in the neighborhood. I get a few friendly waves from some neighbors as I pass and even some friendly chit chat here and there. As I walk a little faster, my body feels energized and I feel like I could walk forever.

The fact is, I always feel better after walking—always. Getting started is the tough part (the dances with leashes has its difficulties as well), but the payoff is tremendous. Those days, when I simply do not want to go walking, are the days I feel the best when it’s over. Walking is a natural, low impact way to exercise. It can ease muscle tension, relieve stress and burn some calories too. Additionally, my pets are happier and more relaxed and so am I; it’s bonding at its best. So, I wish for everyone a Molly of their own, to always be encouraging, for always being at the ready and for being so doggone pushy.