In the evening, when the sun is not as intense in the hot desert summer sky, I take my dog for his walks. I really should say “our” walks because I need them just as much as he does, sitting inside the house with cold air blowing on me all day gives me a case of cabin fever. Once I see the living room clock point at 7pm I know it’s time to break free from my air-conditioned prison and go outside in the not-so-hot fresh air.
Our favorite place to walk is along the dirt road that begins a quarter a mile from my house. Once we go past the small cabins along the dirt road it’s open desert and Bo gets to go off his leash. Bo is a tailless but handsome German Shepherd we got from the Desert Hot Springs pound and his stumpy tail wags as he voices his impatience to go for a walk with his yips and barks, seeing me put on my sneakers and pressing the buttons of my Garmin GPS watch. He’s jumping and turning circles when I finally get down his leash from its place by the door.
When we go outside Bo pulls at the leash, he knows where we are going, and he could probably take us to the dirt road himself. We walk along the dirt road with its small vacation cabins tucked in among cactus gardens and palo verde trees. They’re empty most of the time, looked after in the owner’s absence by an old couple in a green jeep, their cocker spaniels leaning out of the windows as they circle the driveways of the cabins, leaving tire tracks to make it look like people frequent the cabins.
We finally walk by all the small cabins and came to what I call the Cross Roads, where the dirt road makes a junction with other dirt roads and depending on what I feel like I could go down to a wash, through hilly terrain, or toward a main road where a church sits on the corner. I opted for the church road as it’s not used often by dirt bikers and Bo hates dirt bikes. A dirt bike came from behind us one time and I heard the distinctive whine of the motor too late over the blowing desert wind. Bo saw it and gave chase to the dirt bike and when the dirt biker saw he had a big dog on his heals he kicked it up into high gear and gave Bo his dust. It didn’t detour my dog from having a good chase after that dirt bike, finding his way back to me a half mile down the dirt road with his tongue hanging, a doggish grin on his face from the good chase.
It’s only a half mile from the Cross Roads to the Church, a mile round trip, and Bo spends the time searching out rabbits, lizards, and peeing on creosote bushes, trotting contentedly from one location to another. He must run around twice as far as I do, maybe even three times as far.
An idea came to me and I took of my Garmin GPS watch and looped it through Bo’s collar. It stayed at the top of his collar, right by his pointed ears, I pressed the start button to begin recording the trip and took off Bo’s leash. Let’s find out just how far he runs.
Immediately Bo started making his rounds, peeing on a bush here, sniffing a branch there, standing at attention with his ears perked looking intently at a creosote bush where a lizard was hiding. Meanwhile I continued to walk toward the church. I reached the church and made the u-turn back toward the Cross Roads with Bo a few feet from me trotting off the path, tongue hanging.
He saw something in the distance toward the Cross Roads and took off after it and for a while I didn’t see him. I kept walking and noticed that there was a slow moving green Jeep coming down the hill path approaching the Cross Roads. Where was Bo? The Jeep slowed down and paused for a moment out of sight behind a swell in the desert. Uh-oh, I’ll bet Bo is saying hello, I hoped he wasn’t bothering those cocker spaniels. I started to call Bo and after a few minutes he finally came into view. I told him what a good boy he was and patted his head all the while continuing to walk to the Cross Roads. I leashed him when we got there in the middle of the fresh tracks of the Jeep and that was when I saw that Bo was limping a little bit in his front right paw.
Later on, after performing home surgery to remove the cactus thorns lodged in Bo’s front right paw, I took a look at my Garmin watch to see how far Bo went. There was a film over the watch and I used my finger nail to scratch it off. What did that come from? Oh, it’s Bo’s drool, yuck! The watch settled to the bottom of his collar as he ran and he drooled all over it. I took a scour pad from the kitchen sink and scrubbed it off then synced the watch with its app on the phone to see the results.
I know that it’s a mile round trip from the Cross Roads to the church. Bo went 1.5 miles during that walk. So does that mean that Bo runs 1.5 times further than I do? If I did 3 miles would he go 4.5 miles? Surely more data is needed to make a sound conclusion. I could also tell from the map on the app that Bo did in fact go and see the old couple in the Jeep. But he turned around and trotted through the desert when I called. What a good dog!