Walk your dog at least once every day.
Even if you don’t have a dog.
I obtained this antic bit of wisdom from my friend, Yola. Can’t remember if she read it somewhere or someone, maybe a doctor, told her this, but I do recall the essence of it: walking is excellent exercise. Especially if, like me, you walk fast (panting slightly, sweating lightly).
Even without the dog, I walk at least a mile a day. But I found the notion of that imaginary dog quite enticing.
So, while I’m waiting for what I expect will be the next indictment (of, maybe, Julian Assange and Roger Stone, along with Don Jr., and Jared Kushner and maybe toss in Brad Parscale and Doofus Carter Page), I’m working on what kind of imaginary dog I might have.
“Well,” I said to Yola, “my sister has always had Goldens and I love them, so…”
“Too big for a New York apartment,” said Yola.
I felt she might be right. Besides, Goldens shed and if they do shed, why wouldn’t an imaginary one shed? All over my multi-colored but basically black couch. So…not a Golden.
Then I had a bright thought. Why not an imaginary Labradoodle? I’ve seen a bunch of these fluffy balls of adorableness in the neighborhood. Some of them are Golden size but many are knee high.
And they seem sprightly and energetic, which is good because, as I said, I walk fast and do not want to be restrained by a small, slow imaginary dog. I’ve seen a bunch of those, too, with their partners creeping really slowly as the dog waddles over to a secure spot to fulfill the purpose of the walk.
Speaking of which, would I have to carry imaginary plastic bags for their imaginary poop?
Nah. So I’m back with the imaginary Labradoodle who — I mean, he’s imaginary, right? — does not pee or poop. At least not while she’s on her walk with me.
It’s getting complicated. Where will I put his or her imaginary water and food bowls in my small kitchen?
Now I’m thinking about my imaginary dog’s name. Suggestions will be considered.