Walking with Cody

Many people will tell you that having a dog will increase the amount of your exercise. In my case, I am not so sure. Cody, a Shetland sheepdog, is a great dog, but his stamina and work ethic are not what they could be. He is a social dog, but he is not cutout to be the sheepherder he was bred to be. In fact, the last time a sheep bleated at him, Cody ran behind me to hide. The only reason he did not go further was because he was on the lead.

While I admit that he is a good companion, I estimate that walking three miles with Cody takes about twenty percent longer than without him. There are three general reasons for this claim that do not include bathroom breaks. First, Cody is a dog who likes to smell the flowers and other odoriferous items. I occasionally must turn around so that he will catch up. If I do not, there can be trouble. In the past, he has found smelly things, typically horse or cow manure, and wallowing in it is great fun. Once I took him for a walk before catching a flight that evening, because I had plenty of time. His great fun meant that I had to scramble to give him a bath before I had a hurried drive to the airport and missed dinner. It is one of the times I wished he could talk: “Cody, what are you thinking?” I would ask. I imagine his reply varies from “I was playing army and wanted to camouflage myself” to “You’re always telling me that I am a ‘stinky dog’ and I want to show you what stinky really is.”

Second, Cody likes to bring me sticks; but he never brings me good sticks to throw, just little twigs that easily break when applies any pressure whatsoever. Even if I could retrieve the sticks he brings, they are so light that it would be impossible to throw them any distance whatsoever. My standard response to Cody is, teasingly, “That is NOT a stick!” Then, according to Cody, it is imperative that I find a stick proper for throwing. Cody is so clueless that if he does not watch, he cannot find the stick I have just thrown. A wild search ensues to find a stick that bears any similarity to the one I have just thrown. Cody is bad at approximations and, therefore, he brings me another twig or he tries to drag a downed branch out of woods. We start the process again of trying to find an appropriate stick, which distracts us from our primary objective of walking. As I write this I realize it might be my primary objective, not his.

Finally, Cody is a popular and vain little dog. There is no doubt in my mind, when I take him for a walk, he is sure that everyone we meet along the way is there to see and greet him. He often hears phases, such as, “what a beautiful dog,” “oh, he is so cute,” and “what a cutie.” He knows exactly what these words mean because regularly sits, strikes his most enticing stares, and beckons the admirer (mostly women and children) to make a fuss over him. A local business owner in Dewey Beach, Delaware said that Shelties in general, and Cody in particular, had such an intense stare it made the restaurant owner embarrassed, as if he were naked in public. I am disturbed by the imagery; instead I think Cody tries to will people to pay attention to him. As he has gotten older he has become more resistant to walking more than two miles. Like a little kid, he hangs his head and lags far behind. At that point, I encourage him by incessantly saying, “come on” and “catch up,” all the while he looks pretty sad as I do so. But, if we happen upon an admirer, human or canine, he perks right up. He becomes frisky and there is a spring in his step. Cody will continue to prance until his admirer is out of sight.

Cody on a walk

One time, while staying at a hotel in Waterloo, Ontario, he was having trouble getting the hang of sliding glass doors to leave the hotel. During our initial twenty-four hours in the hotel, he dreaded going outside because he could never figure out how to judge when the door would open. Early on Saturday morning I took him down to the lobby and he was pulling his lead not to go out…until two young girls squealed, “look at the puppy,” and a young woman in a sundress rushed over to pet him. Then, to keep from disappointing his fans, he threw his head up, pranced across the marble floor, and out the sliding doors like a movie star. For the rest of the weekend, as soon as the elevator doors opened to the lobby, Cody would cavort out and across the lobby toward the door. As he did, he always gave a quick glance both left and right to see if there were any fans noticing him. When there were, he would make me stop and do a meet and greet session. Cody is never in a hurry to get anywhere.