Last night I managed to get home at a decent hour (7:30) and actually had time to work out.
I got home, gave Vito his belly rubs, then ran upstairs to get changed. AND, being the little multi-tasker that I am, I could not only get my exercise in, I could also catch the entertainment news on E! Was Madonna trying a new approach to manipulating the Malawi government? Are producers still crazy enough to give Kendra her own show? I couldn't wait.
As I'm getting changed and sitting on the bed putting on my sneakers, Vito is sitting next to me, whining excitedly and pawing at my leg.
My little smarty pants knows that when I take him on a W-A-L-K, I sit on the bed and put the very same sneakers on.
But I'm not going on a walk...I'm going on the treadmill...Watching E!...Cancelling out those M&M's I had at work...
The guilt and the big brown eyes get the best of me and before I know it I'm strapping on Vito's harness and we're headed out the front door. Oh, the sacrifices a mom makes.
We live in what they call a "walking neighborhood". Which basically means that we don't live on a main road, have sidewalks, the houses are pretty close together, and families jaunt around with their dogs and kids.
Vito couldn't be happier, stopping at every blade of grass to pee and sniff. But taking Vito for a walk is an adventure, so my eyes are peeled.
We MUST avoid other dogs at all costs. Vito is NOT good with other pups. He barks like a savage animal, straining on his harness until he's practically choking. Our walks usually consist of U-turns, zig-zagging and hiding behind trees to keep out of sight of other dogs.
Today, of freaking course, was no different.
We're not five minutes into the walk and I spot a man with not one, but TWO dogs headed our way. We take a quick left, and Vito is thrown off a bit, as this is not our usual route. But we're in the clear. He doesn't see the other dogs. Until they see him. And start barking.
Miraculously Vito ignores them (note: extra treat for Vito when we get home) and we keep going down the street.
Two houses down, and elderly gentleman pulls into his driveway, gets out of his car, sees Vito, smiles and stops at the end of his driveway.
OLD MAN: "What a cutie!"
He's waiting for us, up ahead on our left, at the edge of his lawn.
OLD MAN: "Well, look at him!"
And I do.
And I see that sight I'm so familiar with: Vito scooting his back legs up and tucking his little behind under.
Vito takes a big fat dump on the guy's lawn.
I must've said it outloud, because the man says to me: "It's okay, don't worry."
I whip out my plastic bag to show him that I DO care, and that I'm a good mommy who cleans up after her dog.
Vito springs off his poop, smells it, then proceeds to rip up the guy's lawn as he kicks his legs back over his little steaming present.
And I was worried about the barking???