There were the smell walks, where we made zero progress but she inhaled untold purple, mesmerizing molecules. There were Pump’s-choice walks, where I let her choose which way we went at every intersection. There were serpentine walks, where I restrained myself instead of her as she weaved on leash from my left to my right and back again. As a younger dog, she tacitly agreed to go on runs with me when I agreed to occasionally stop and circle around her as she circled around an interesting dog. As she got older, there were even non-walking walks, where she lay down, and just stayed put until she
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