Sunday, September 13, 2015

What Are You Running From?

As soon as she's done pooping, the doge pulls to the end of her leash, straining to continue her walk, not even wanting to give me time to pick up.

When I've finished cleaning up after her, we start walking again, but she's clearly on a mission. We walk faster and faster until, finally, we're both running.

I can't speak for her, but I have no idea why we were running.

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