Walking With Oreo
There’s a program in town called Walk with a Doc. It’s designed to encourage people to get outside, stay active, and have a doctor on hand just in case. Me? I don’t need Walk with a Doc—I've got Walk with Oreo.
Broken Arrow, OK (2011)
Oreo entered my life as a furry three-month-old, black and white puppy – part Shih Tzu, part Jack Russell. I'd gone to the local humane society to get a cat. But, before I had a chance to tell the volunteer what I was looking for, a woman came in with a basket of puppies. I looked in and saw Oreo scrambling all over the other pups. I knew this was the pet for me. She was all energy, and her name was Oreo. (I do love chocolate!) Oreo bounced instead of walked, ran instead of strolled, and kept me on my toes from day one.
Oreo-June 2011 |
Our first home together had a nice backyard, but no fence. However, we lived in a neighborhood with plenty of sidewalks, so daily walks were easy. We both needed exercise, so that's what we did.
At first, her little legs couldn't keep up, but before long we were walking a mile a day.
Even when we weren't walking, we were usually together. If I went somewhere Oreo couldn't walk, I put her in a pet sling and carried her around my neck. She learned to travel in the car and stay in a motel. I bought her a doggie highchair so she could see out the car window and her own doggie suitcase for food and toys. We would drive to parks all over Oklahoma and nearby states, just to walk.
House training was a breeze, and she never chewed the furniture. I did have to use a playpen to protect her from our cats. They were curious about the tiny, black and white fuzzball. Oreo's active personality made the cats want to "bat" at her as if she was a toy!
"What kind of cat is that?" |
During the first year, she developed bladder stones, requiring surgery. The vet removed a baby-food–sized jar of stones; and from then on, she was on a prescription diet. But that didn't slow her down. We continued to walk about a mile a day, her tiny legs trotting beside me, ears flopping in the wind.
Oreo Post-op |
Independent Living – A Cottage with a Fenced Yard (2015, Oreo is 4)
Moving into an independent living community was a new chapter for us. Our little cottage had a fenced back yard where I could easily put her out to potty. It was tempting to stop walking; but I would never let her outside alone. I'd heard a horror story about a hawk snatching a small dog right off the ground, and I wasn’t taking any chances with Oreo. Forget the back yard – we walked the neighborhood.
Our new community also had a dog park, but Oreo wasn't a social butterfly. Sharing wasn't her thing, and she also had a talent for sniffing out disgusting things to eat, which then made her sick. So, the dog park was off limits. We stuck to our walks, one to two miles a day.
Atria - The Woodland Walks (2018, Oreo is 7)
By the time we moved to Atria, Oreo and I had a rhythm. Our new apartment had a beautiful, wooded path winding around the complex – a peaceful retreat from the busyness of caregiving. If we wanted a longer walk, there was a walking trail nearby that went for miles through south Tulsa.
Oreo loved the wooded pathway the most because she would almost always encounter a squirrel. As soon as she spotted one, she'd yank the leash, speed off after it, and chase it up the nearest oak tree. Then she'd jump and bark as if to say, "I got it! I got it!" I don't know what she would have done if she actually caught it!
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"I got it! I got it!" |
Island Bay – The Canal Years (2021, Oreo is 10)
This move came with a change of scenery: a canal out front, a boardwalk out back, and a new set of challenges. The boardwalk was old, worn, and uneven, making our walks feel more like an obstacle course.
The canal was about twelve feet below the apartments, so there was a grassy bank that flowed down from the sidewalk to the canal. One day, Bill was walking Oreo when a squirrel ran by. Oreo jerked the leash, hard, and Bill lost his balance. Before he knew it, Bill was rolling down the hill, arms flailing. A neighbor came running and rescued him. That was the last time he walked Oreo.
Still, Oreo and I kept going, logging our daily miles, navigating the boardwalk, dodging loose boards, and always keeping an eye out for squirrels. Some days, we'd pause to watch the pelicans swoop down for a light snack or the silver mullet leap from the water.
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Pelican watching! |
Lakeside at Campeche Cove - Slowing Down (2023, Oreo is 12)
Our next apartment had lovely green spaces tucked between the buildings. I thought of them as my very own English Garden. Oreo, on the other hand, saw them as battlegrounds – filled with other dogs walking the same paths, sniffing the same spots, and invading her territory! Over time, we figured out which dogs we could tolerate and which ones we couldn't. Still, we logged one to two miles a day.
"I don't know. They smell weird!" |
But something else was happening. My once-springy, eager pup began slowing down. Our walks shrank to half a mile - some days, she could barely walk at all.
Then things got worse.
She stopped eating. Slept all day. Diarrhea. Vomiting. Repeat. I even canceled a cruise because I couldn't bear to leave her. Nothing the vet tried seemed to help. She continued to get worse.
Finally, in the spring of 2024, I took her in one more time and gave the vet an ultimatum: Do something, I told him, or I'll have to let her go.
His answer? A vegetarian diet. I was skeptical but desperate enough to try anything.
Cove at GYB – The Comeback (2024, Oreo is 13)
Just before our move to The Cove at GYB, something incredible happened. The vegetarian diet worked! So much so, I've been cutting back on my meat as well!
Within five days, Oreo bounced back. Her tail wagged again. She had energy. She wanted to walk. She even wanted to run! Suddenly, my frail, aging companion was acting like an eight-year-old—bounding around, eyes bright, and eager to go!
We began walking again - up to two miles a day! And not just that - she was climbing stairs. Three flights of them!
Walking with Oreo (2025, Oreo is 14)
Oreo has been my walking partner for 14 years now. We both have some gray hairs, but we're still out there– walking, exploring, living. Acting younger than we really are.
Because the best way to stay young . . . is to keep walking.