He Ain't Heavy....

Before I begin I want to say that I love my boy, I can't imagine life without him. I would go to the ends of the Earth for him but I have to admit, being seen in public with him is kind of embarrassing. My name is Rachel and I have a fat, dramatic dog.

I know it's my own fault, I need to walk him more but there is a very good reason I don't. When we first got Rolo, we lived in a townhouse with no backyard. So to take him out to potty we would leash him and walk him around the little parking lot, grassy area and wait for him to take poos. We also walked a lot more back then so he was getting pretty good on a leash. When we bought a house we made sure it had a nice big backyard for him to run around in. This slightly backfired when Rolo decided he hated grass. Soon after we moved in, I tricked Rob into adopting a second dog. Bella taught Rolo how to go potty and play in the grass and everything was great.Then we got Saffy because I mean what's one more, amiright?

Fenced in yard = less walks (because we are mean like that). Less walks = Fat dogs and fat Rachels. So I decided I need to start walking these granimals again. I quickly learned that there is no way I could possibly walk all three hellhounds at the same time so I started walking them separately.  Another side effect of not taking Rolo on walks was his new inability to walk on a leash properly. Instead he likes to choke himself the entire way, stopping occasionally to hack and gag all over the place. Got a harness, still managed to choke himself.
Last fall we got another new harness that goes around his nose so if he pulls, it pulls his muzzle towards his chest so he'll stop. Rolo decided that he didn't like that so he stopped using his front legs. Just went limp, laid his face on the ground sideways and walked with his back legs to make it appear I was dragging him through the neighborhood like a terrible person. Then he found a field of dried grass clipping which he proceeded to drag his face through, setting off his allergies. And of course he wants to poop in everyone's yard, so when I stopped to pick that up, he fell over onto his side with a crazy look in his eye and refused to get up and walk. Finally I thought fuck it, I'll pick him up. There I was, carrying a pudgy, red-eyed, hacking terrier 3 blocks home. And he loved every damn minute of it.