What you have to do, if you're out for a walk with your dad in the summer, is rest whenever you need to. Don't wait for him to decide to rest, because, if he's anything like my dad, he probably referees basketball and football, and plays tennis once or twice a week, and wins.
Then he expects me to keep up with those l-o-n-g legs of his. No way. So I just lie down, preferably in a patch of wildflowers that bring out the best highlights in my strawberry blonde hair and deep brown eyes.
And I give him the look. You know the look: the one that says, "Daddy, I love you more than anyone, even more than Mommy, and you wouldn't want to make me walk faster than is good for my health, would you?"
hosted by Lindy's friend Bozo
and his family, at their
Pets Forever blog in
Lindy says, Hi Bozo, would you like to come for a walk with me? A nice, slow walk? I'll show you the coulee, and maybe we'll see some deer. Then you won't be bored any more.