Original story by James Henerson
At this moment, Barney, my golden doodle, is lying by my desk, looking up at me with that ‘Why aren’t you taking me for a walk?’ look in his big, fur-fringed brown eyes. It’s a habitual glance, and it never fails to stir just enough guilt so that, more often than not, I stop what I’m doing and take him for a walk. Little does he know that on this occasion I’m writing about just that, a walk taken four-and-a-half years ago.
Barney, or Barnes, Barnaby, Barnacles, or occasionally Poodle Paws, (depending on how whimsical I’m feeling), was my six-month old, fifty-pound puppy when I succumbed to one of those looks and consequently hooked on his leash. With his behind wriggling and his tail waving, we set out for Whole Foods, our local supermarket, some six blocks away in Sherman Oaks, California. With frequent stops for sniffing, marking, and once for a pooh stop, we made our way down my steep, curving driveway onto Kingswood Lane. We then made a quick right turn onto Woodcliff, which is a hillside route to the west side of Los Angeles for those wanting to avoid the 405 freeway (frequently a parking lot). We made another quick right onto Saugus, which crosses Valley Vista, and on past Sutton and Greenleaf into the Whole Foods parking lot.