The Other Dog Walker

              Nika and Noah inspecting Murphy the pup

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Our daughter, Megan, recently moved into a new apartment in the same building in Orlando where she has lived for the last two years, and we drove up there  to help her out. She doesn’t own a lot of stuff – bed, dresser, desk, chair- and she and a friend were able to move the large items before we got there. We were left with the minutia – everything else!

While we were there, Megan had to tend to her dog-walking business, and many of her clients are either in her building or nearby. The concierges at the front desk are continually handing out her card, touting her as the best dog walker in downtown Orlando, with the best prices. Only this morning, one of the concierges told Megan she has been able to convince nearly everyone who asks about dog walkers to contact her, except for the owner of a small terrier who uses Megan’s competition. Megan has never met her competition, but knows of her. She’s more expensive, doesn’t live in the building, doesn’t even live downtown.

So this morning we left her building with Noah and Nika on leashes and walked across the street so Megan could pick up Murphy, a golden retriever/gold lab mix pup. While she was picking up Murphy, Rob and I walked Noah and Nika up the street, to a patch of grass shrouded in magnificent oaks with Spanish moss flowing from them. Both dogs found a spot near the base of a tree that probably smelled of squirrels, and were busy sniffing when Nika’s head suddenly snapped up. Her tail started wagging. A little terrier pup hurried up the sidewalk, yapping noisily, while its walker struggled to contain it.

I let Nika move toward the dog, to sniff and do whatever it is dogs do that constitutes a greeting. The terrier was beside himself with joy, greeting Nika, then Noah, whose head is the size of the terrier’s body.

“How old is your dog?” I asked the young woman, a brunette wearing a jacket and boots because yes, winter has come to Orlando.

“We think he’s a year old, but I’m not sure. I’m the dog walker.” Then she rocked onto the balls of her feet and brought her hands up as high as her head, fingers hooked like claws. “He’s like a frickin’ squirrel,” she laughed. “I’m gonna climb your legs and head and make you crazy.”

After she moved on down the street with the terrier, Rob remarked that he saw her in the lobby of Megan’s building earlier that morning and we realized she is Megan’s  competition.

The odds on this one aren’t impressive until you factor in the timing. Megan had just told us the story about her competition – and about five minutes later we met the  woman. The meaning? No clue. But when Megan emerged from the building awhile later with Murphy, Rob said, “Synchro, Megan, and listen to this.”

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Happy Winter Solstice to everyone

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14 Responses to The Other Dog Walker

  1. D. Page says:

    What a sweet story. Happy pooches and Florida sunshine.
    Happy Solstice, everyone!

  2. D. Page says:

    A sweet story.
    Happy Solstice to everyone!

  3. DJan says:

    If you ask me, that is really quite a synchro. And what a sweet picture of the happy doggies. Hope you have a wonderful Solstice! Tomorrow our day will be 3 seconds longer than today. 🙂

  4. blah says:

    just typed the word pup…2 minutes ago (comparing arithmetic to mathematics) but then there’s the 8/13 from earlier this week,,,,,, Off The C’s,, but where’s the boy going with the stuff… yeah no books say you should ignore the stuff… but “down side” there seems to be… Know a couple of financial types up there in the center of peach country… and then…yeah secrets of… yeah sure…….

  5. Great story, the competition has been spotted with a little help from ‘the man’ pulling the strings. Or woman, of course – have to be so careful what you write nowadays!

    And fancy the competition having to wear a jacket and boots, it must be hard living in Florida 🙂

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