On Command

My morning walks with Duncan are my favorite. He's still a bit groggy and bed-headed, takes a lot of time stretching and doing his doggy yoga (Downward and Upward Dog are his favorite positions), is playful but does as he's supposed to do. We don't use the leash in the mornings and he manages to stay close by my side. The one thing he won't do in the morning, though is poop in a timely manner, which quite make me late for work. We'll walk the length of the property and while I watch the birds perched on top of the buildings or keep an eye open for bunnies, Dunc sniffs along the patios and the fence, taking special care to inspect every tree and clump of thick, dewey grass in between. He pees right off the bat but he has to work himself up to the Big Job. I've started carrying treats with me and rewarding him with them, along with extra ear scritches and loves in the hope of teaching him to poop on command, but it's one lesson we're having difficulty with. To be fair, I'd find it hard to poop with someone breathing down my neck, too. There's something vulnerable about dogs when they squat, an uncomfortable, exposed and almost shameful look on their faces as they go so I try accommodate Duncan as best as I can, turning my back and whistling while he tends to business, but he still needs plenty of time. I would, too, I'm sure, what with all the traffic and the open yard and the bright sunshine or cold grass on my sensitive parts. I don't blame him, I just wish I wasn't late for work every morning.