Yemma, My Own Temp Dog, has one. A personal one. On Monday, Tuesday and Thursday. From 10 to 12. To me, having an own dog walker is like having a personal Coca-Cola Light man.
He looks sporty. Walking the big dogs in the city every day clearly has its' effect on a man. He drives the old station-wagon. Space for many dogs. Jeans. Sneakers. Baseball cap. Blond. Off course.
And when he walks in to the garden, you can hear for a minute the Coca Cola Light song. At least Yemma does. Dog Walker. Music to her ears.
Yes. I have many girlfriends who don't mind to be a dog for the day. One in San Francisco, that is. Woof!
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