A tired dog
is a good dog.

You're out
from 7:30
to six.

Ten and a half hours. Your dog's been sitting on a full tank the whole time, with no one to run it off with.

That's where the chewed skirting board comes from. The barking at every stranger on the footpath. The 10pm zoomies when all you want to do is sit down. It isn't bad behaviour — it's unspent energy with nowhere to go.

Before the walk

Ninety real minutes.
Not a lap round the block.

Off the lead wherever it's safe to be off the lead — beach, bush, the reserve, whatever gives the most room to actually run. A proper drain, not a token trip past the letterbox and back.

Four dogs.
Maximum.

Matched by size and pace, so the walk actually suits your dog — not crammed in with a dozen strangers he's never met. He learns to be around other dogs properly, not just tolerate them through a fence.

A photo.
A line.
Every walk.

A picture and a note on how it went — who he played with, what he rolled in, whether the zoomies happened on the beach instead of your hallway. Every single walk, sent before you're even out of your afternoon meeting.

After the walk

[Name] walks
your dog.
Not an app.

I've been walking dogs around the inner west for years. I'm insured, and I'm trained in canine first aid — if something goes wrong, I already know what to do, before you even get the phone call.

Every walk is me. Not whoever's rostered on that morning.