And we’re (not) walking.

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Lord Dudley was looking stylish as we headed outside to walk.

.

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And by walk, of course I mean sit.

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My attempts to get his Lordship up and on his feet were not well received.

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After some futile tugging and a bit of cajoling, I did manage to get the little bugger moving…

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But only as far as the deck, where he immediately plopped down under a chair.

Walking the cat….

It’s a process.

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18 thoughts on “And we’re (not) walking.”

  1. We had a cat I’d occasionally take out for a stroll around the yard. He’d immediately start eating grass. I’d tell him not to and he’d run to the door and give me a look that clearly said, “If I can’t do what I want then I’m going in!”

    Liked by 1 person

  2. We would shake the leash and say, “Tigger . . . want to go out?” If he did, he made a beeline for the front door. If he didn’t, he just looked at us ~ our cue to hang the leash up and do something else.

    But there still was lots of just sitting in the sun or sitting in the shade involved. It wasn’t “exercise.”

    Liked by 1 person

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