Some time ago, I wrote about the joys of dog ownership (Off-The-Leash).  That was after we had dog-sat our friend Cooper the Saunterer.

Well, you know how this works – Like Brittany Spears “Ooops, we’ve done it again”.  Cooper has stayed with us a few times now.  He no longer seems to be curious about our home or immediate neighborhood.  In his mind he’s thinking: “Ahh…. The Summer Estate.  I hope they haven’t changed the chef.”

Whereas before we were learning about his “Saunter Style”, now we are learning that there is a method to this madness.  We have now learned how to saunter.

You see, one needs to understand Cooper. Cooper does not do what other dogs dog-do. What other dogs do is run, fetch, sniff each other, jump, play frisbee and bark.  Cooper does none of that.  He is a unique creature. This is not dog-walking in the traditional sense. It is the Saunterer’s Stroll.

What I’ve learned is that the process of Sauntering is in fact a complex process of communications unlike, say, Twitter (I heard on the morning news that Musk has been sniffing around Twitter again). In any case, the process of Sauntering has several unique steps:

Steps to Sauntering:

1. The Saunterer Snoozes
2. The Saunterer Stares
3. The Saunterer Stops
4. The Saunterer Sniffs
5. The Saunterer Soaks
6. The Saunterer Squats
7. The Saunterer Shovels

Because he’s a dog (at least I think he is a dog; it is sometimes hard to tell when he is staring at you that way) Cooper cannot undertake these steps by himself. It is a joint operation of Dog-Walker (me) and Dog-Saunterer (him).  Sort of like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers but where Cooper is not in a cocktail dress with high heels (again, that I know of).

To do so, one must decompose the activity (we’re composting here after all) into 2 essential parts:  The Destination of the Saunterer and the Communication with the Saunterer.

Let’s start with the Destination.  On a Saunterer’s Stroll, Cooper believes he should “Stop and Smell the Roses.”  He also believes he should Soil the Roses, because he is a dog (I think).  Broadly speaking, the Destinations on the walk are in 3 basic categories:

Destination 1:  Stuff to Sniff

Destination 2:  Stuff to Soak

Destination 3:  Stuff to Squat.  (I bet you’re thinking of a different word here; Saunterer’s Shame on you – Cooper has his dignity, and this is a family article).

Destination 1:  What Stuff does the Saunterer Sniff?

Things he will smell:  Everything

Things he will not smell:  Nothing.

There you have it. And it’s not like he takes a wandering whiff; nope, he stops for a good deep breath of every molecule of matter on the walk.

You see, Cooper’s mind is a great doggie database of every pooch that has positioned him or herself on the local properties. (As an aside, Property Pooch is a new home remodeling show on HGTV. Big Clocks are involved.) If you look closely, you can see it register on his face each time.  He gets that Saunter’s Scowl as he thinks: “OK, there’s Bowzer from Brentstone, Lucky from Larthorn (I hope his lumbago is better) and wait a minute… wait a minute [whiff]… Yes, there’s Fifi from Fieldstone in 1976.  Ahh… The classics never go out of style…..”

Destination 2:  What Stuff will the Saunterer Soak?

Here is a partial list:  Fire hydrants, fence posts, sign posts, light posts, communication company equipment, picket fences, large walls, small walls, hedges, grass, flowers, cactuses, trees, landscape lighting, the little flags that realtors plant in your front yard without permission (I consider this a political statement), and one particularly nasty Twix wrapper that was embedded in someone’s lawn and peed on by every dog in the neighborhood until it qualified as an EPA Superfund Site.

What Cooper will not soak:  My nice big back lawn. He’ll go around the lawn – trash cans, furniture, garden fairies, BUT… not on my lawn. Other people’s lawns, YES, but my lawn NO.

I did note that the Twix wrapper did disappear after a long period of time.  I hope for their sake that it was NOT the homeowner who took this task upon himself.  I imagine that a large, unmarked, white panel truck stopped at the curb. Two guys with hazmat suits emerge carrying one of those large claw thingys. They tagged the Twix, placed it in a sealed metal container and proceeded to melt the Twix wrapper at the temperature of 10,000 suns. After all, one can never be too safe.

Destination 3:  Where does the Saunterer choose to Squat?

If there is one thing that is true, Cooper is very polite about poop.  There are no surprise doggie-lawn-mines waiting in my yard. Or anyone else’s’ yard as the benefit of a Saunterer’s Stroll is to pick up the Cooper Pooper. Yes, we Serve the Saunterer.

So, where does the Saunterer Squat? The park next to the school.  Where every dog in the neighborhood hangs out.

Where the Saunterer does Not Squat:  Anywhere else, at least voluntarily, and that includes my big nice green backyard lawn.

As they say, it is not the destination, but the journey.  We’ve found the 3 places that Cooper seeks out, but how does one saunter to those locations?

You see, it is not as simple as “I put on the leash, we leave the house, and he does stuff.”  No, there is an intricate communication process that is utterly necessary in order to saunter properly.

These can be described in a few communication methods.  All start with the “Saunterer’s Stop”.  What happens next is one of these methods, as we shall explain:

Method 1:  The Saunterer’s Stare (also a previously disregarded Harry Pooper book).

Method 2:  The Trying Tug

Method 3:  The Yard Yank

Method 4:  The Drag of Desperation.

The Saunterer’s Stroll usually starts when I would say something like “Cooper, ready to go”?  At this point, Cooper is engaged in the Saunterer’s Snooze on our couch. In a fit of frenzy, he lazily gets off the couch, and then jumps on my easy chair.  But eventually, when he understands that we’re going out, the Saunterer will mosey over to the leash and provides the Stare at it, thus communicating “Yes, I’d like to go on a Stroll”.

Once the leash is attached, Cooper takes command of the leash. He stares at you as if to say “Well, I can do this by myself; I know the neighborhood pretty well now, so why do I need you?”  I considered it a few times. Then again, if he finds his way to the local bar for a beer without me, I’d feel pretty left out.

All of this lasts until “Stop 1”. Sometimes as far as the end of my driveway. And then the communications begin. All communications begin with “The Saunterer’s Stop”.  Cooper announces to you that he is ready to do (something), by simply stopping and staring at you as if you (not he) should’ve guessed that this was the plan all along.  This is Method 1 – the Saunterer Stares.

Which yields one of these communications from you to Cooper:

Method 2:  The Trying Tug:  This is highly correlated with the Saunterer’s Sniff of some particular bush, fence post, public lavatory (light pole, etc.) and so forth (See list above. Or just remember this could be anything, as it’s easier that way).

Your first communication back to Cooper is a Tug on the leash.  Think of it this way – You tug, and he says, “I’m trying to check this out, but you won’t let me”.  However, if he’s not all that committed, he’ll start back up as if to say “ok, you win this one” and the Sauntering begins again.

Method 3:  The Yard Yank: 

This can be explained by example.  You’ve now passed by any number of houses (0, ½, 1 if you’re lucky) before the Saunterer’s Stop.  He’s looking up Fifi’s Front Yard, where he wants to Foul the Flowers. You’ve now tried the tug, and Cooper has not budged. He is now fairly determined to do whatever it is he’s going to do, presumably to impress Fifi. So much so that he starts up the front walk towards Fifi’s Dog-House (us humans only rent there).

I cannot speak for you but trespassing on someone’s property is not my idea of a good time, particularly when my neighbor Phyllis is attending to her Petunias (time to PP, if you get my drift). So… this requires a Yard Yank to communicate “Get Offa My Grass” message to Cooper.

If it is not Fifi’s Front Flowers, then there is a negotiation. Cooper simply wants to stop, smell the roses, and then provide them with the Saunterer’s Soak.  He will stop, sniff, sniff, sniff…. And then position himself in the most efficient position to leave his mark for posterity in the Saunterer’s Society.

Or, if you have made it to the park, he may choose the Saunterer’s Squat.  In order to do the doggie-doo, there is a delicate dance:  Stop, Stare, Spin About, Soil the Spot; Shovel the Grass. 

It is interesting that before he can Squat, he has to spin about like a dancer.  It is as if he has had this particular poop locked up in the Saunterer’s Safe all day and needs to unlock it first.  He goes 3 rounds to the left, 2 rounds to the right, one more to the left and then….. relief.

But watch out – The Saunterer’s Shovel is next and requires a definite Yard Yank.  Cooper sends grass, dirt, broken glass, etc.  flying backwards in the general direction of the Soiled Spot.  If you don’t communicate to Cooper “Hey I’m back here” through a Yard Yank, your shoes will never be the same.

Which brings us to Method 4: When all else doesn’t appear to work, you must perform Method 4: the Desperation Drag.

I cannot understand this for the life of me.  Cooper seems to be guided by some sort of Doggie Woof-Fi, and if the download stops, so does he. In the worst spot possible, like the middle of the street. And with the most determination he can muster.  So, You drag, He pushes back, You drag some more, He pushes back some more, and ultimately You Win because (face it) you weigh a lot more than he does.

This is the Saunterer’s Stubbornness. Cooperative Cooper he is not.

But it is impressive.  You know how in those superhero movies the Big Bad Guys are bearing down on the Hulk, or Thor, or Iron Man, or (whatever) in some sort of flying machine with all sorts of guns blazing as they destroy New York (again).  Our hero stands there proud and unmoving, then finally unleashes a single punch that sends all 1000 heavily armed bad guys flying in all directions, utterly destroyed. 

That’s what we’re talking about here. Twenty pounds of absolutely rigid Super-Saunterer Staring. It is not a harness that Cooper is wearing, it is a cape (the S is not for Superman, it is for Saunterer) .

This really happened. We were in the park, waiting for him to finish for the morning.  I did not see the large black lab come racing to us at approximately 45 miles an hour off-leash and then came to a screeching halt approximately 2 inches from my legs. Honestly, I jumped about 20 feet high; Cooper remained absolutely motionless, staring down the lab as only he can do.  We’re talking that kind of stubbornness.

OK, there you have it.  Another exhaustive, but somehow necessary, dissertation on the Science of the Strolling Saunterer.

Time to reward myself with another Twix bar.  Now, where did that wrapper go????