My dog Bandit is now 17 years old. He walks like a very slow wind up toy that sometimes tips over. The things that keep him going in life are his pain meds, love of food, and our stroller walks. Most of the time it’s local but on occasion he gets to the beach or on mountain trails. The stroller functions as his wheelchair. We are an item as we walk down the local roads. Often we are greeted by smiles and waves as people drive by. Then I get a lot of puzzled looks like “why is that woman pushing that 45 pound dog in a stroller?” Small children are often filled with a combination of delight and confusion.
I wrote this little poem to provide some insight…
Stroller Dog
I missed our walkabouts
His cattle dog body
All worn out
So I bought him a stroller
That saw four children grow
Then fixed it up
So he could go
But instead of being side by side
I happily push him in his ride
By orchard, vineyard, fields of clover
Sheep and cows, up hills and over
His old dog face now young and free
I know he’d do the same for me
Up the lanes he would be panting
coasting down I would be chanting
“Good boy, good boy!” with so much glee
and he would say…
“Thank you, thank you for loving me.”
Alanna also blogs about sustainablity at onesweetearth.art.blog
By Alanna Pass 