More on the remembering Tate series. The one thing I am really missing is the morning walk. Starting around 5:30 (in the summer) and later in the winter, Tate would begin lobbying for his morning walk.
Unless he had a seizure the day before, or during the night, it was a given that Tate was up for a morning walk.
He was quite insistent about it, and even when I was sick, wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. So, I would put shoes on, grab poop bags, and if it was dark, grab the flashlight.
Tate was never happy with short walks, and really liked to go for ever longer, and new routes.
Work days, I tried to keep it to 45 minutes, and that meant about 2 miles or less. Weekends and holidays, the gloves were off, and the walks were at least 2.4 miles, and up to almost 4 miles, often wending through the neighborhoods, looking for new streets, and new paths to walk.
This was back even when we lived in Tucson, but living in Chandler he really took advantage of it. Across Gilbert road, it was large blocks, and ever longer loops. Even one of the trails we walked there were pony’s that Tate loved to say ‘Hello’ to.
In the last two weeks before us putting him down, I had almost two full weeks off work, and every day, we walked wherever he wanted to go. No limits.
After his passing, I do greatly miss his gentle nudgings to head out for a walk.