Sunday Afternoon

As long time readers of this blog know, Dorothy for the most part has never been fond of a walk, be it short or be it long.  And whereas I tried in the beginning to make the walks more amenable to her, it became clear that Dorothy and walks were never going to be besties.

But then Owen came along, and if there is one thing that Dorothy dislikes more than a walk, it is to watch her beloved Dad leave the house with Owen and not include her.  So when we take Owen for a walk in his bugaboo, Dorothy comes along and walks beautifully!  She trots by the carriage like Jack under the wagon, all bulldogge with a purpose.

A few Sundays ago we were on such a walk and I stopped to admire this:

Pretty, no?  We have a few trees in our yard that haven't lost all their leaves, and one is a beautiful salmon color:

But anyway, last Sunday our pack (minus the two cats, who Dorothy would say aren't pack members anyway, and Plum would concur, since a King Has No Pack, only minions) was on the move.  And this is what it looks like when we are on the move.  Owen is all bundled up lying flat on his back in the carriage, occasionally calling out some kind of critique of the situation before napping:

And here is Sean with bulldogge and bag of poop:

It's a win-win situation for us all:  Sean and I get exercise, Dorothy gets to walk some of her zoomies out, Owen gets a nap and rosy cheeks.  And the foliage gets fawned over.