Next, it was Louie's turn.
Yesterday, I took Jack and Kate for a walk. This involves tricking Louie into thinking nothing special is going on. So, I send him into jump on Ron, who is sleeping soundly until 65 pounds of dog lands on him. Then, I quietly open the drawer with workout stuff (if Jack hears the drawer handles he starts howling) and off we three dash to the garage for the leashes. Kate was so excited that it took awhile to capture her long enough to put the harness on. Then, I have to try to keep her out of the way while I put Jack's leash on. This resulted in a new low for me. I bobbed up and down so much attempting to get their leashes on that I made myself carsick. We had to cut the walk short and return to home base for my stomach to settle down. How weird is that! Do you think we need some intervention? Maybe some dog training, or owner training?
So, for now, how about some time on the front porch? This is really a great spot to sit and contemplate the fact that I should be taking the dogs for a walk, one at a time. Hey, maybe I can enlist Mom to handle Kate while I take one of the poodles. Then we can come back and switch poodles. How do those dog walkers manage it in NYC for pete's sake?