Wylie and I generally go out for a walk three times a day. If the weather’s nice and things are calm, there’s sometimes a “bonus walk,” but those three core walks provide a sense of normalcy no matter what else may be going on.

The early morning and late afternoon/early evening walks are really just a chance to get out and stretch our legs while Wylie checks his messages at various neighborhood hydrants. But there’s nothing routine about our evening walks. Those have become the stuff of legend.

• Five years ago Wylie was intently watching a rabbit and walked straight into the side of a parked car. (Yes, my dog hit a car.)
• The next night, he did it again. Same street. Same car. Probably the same rabbit.
• Three years ago, while visiting Mom and Dad, Wylie and I encountered a black and white cat. Wylie wanted to go sniff, but I chose to get us the heck out of there before the skunk could notice us.
• Two years ago, Wylie was intent on his sniffing and failed to notice that his buddy Riley had stopped to “leave a message” at the local hydrant.
• Six months ago, Wylie was intently staring at the flashing lights on a police car and walked head-first into a tree.

During this past Thursday’s walk, Wylie was very intent on cataloging all the new scents around the neighborhood. It had rained almost every day for the past two weeks (and indeed, most of the past two months), so the scents were particularly fresh, to the point where even a human such as I could appreciate some of them.

So intent was he on the scents of the grass, earth, and trees, Wylie completely failed to notice when he walked within 10 feet of a deer.
On the one hand, I really do believe it’s commendable that Wylie is able concentrate so intently on a given task. I’m a little jealous of his powers of concentration.

But I sometimes find myself thinking ol’ Wylie needs a seeing-eye dog.