Dog Walking Poster Print

If you are looking for a dog walking poster print, check this out. Many dog walkers pass by my home through the square across the street.

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I whistled for the 5 dogs I had to walk that afternoon.

The cash was on the table and it would help a lot that week.

I left the house locking the door behind me.

By the time I would come back, Mrs. Jones would be home to get her dogs.

The long and winding road ahead would not lead to anybody’s heart. It was just and an empty path full of people I never would like to know.

hugely large houses depicted the vanity of mankind. Their dogs under my leash.

Spoiled kids played with their nannies and could not suspect their future depressive states.

lonely dogs in empty houses left by their owners on vacation. The arrogance of man on top of the food chain.

It was always easy for me to answer those kinds of ads asking for walkers. I know the poor animals need their space in concrete jungle suburbs. Nobody cares for them.

Who will ever clean human kind’s mess?

I bite my Oreo and wonder who will help us as we cross Lincoln Avenue.

That’s the greatest thing about walking a bunch o dogs. People stay away and don’t bother you.

The park scenery is always fresh and reminds me of the old days back home.

Dogs began to get weary probably needing to relax their natural bare necessities.

We got into the woods in the park and that smell of fresh green leaves of summer invaded my soul.

After playing a bit in the woods we went back to the open area for a treat.

Girls were playing nearby and the sun turned their hair to golden cotton.

They asked me how if all those dogs were mine and I told them I was dog sitting for some rich folks.

They laughed and played with the dogs. We stood there for about an hour. They, having a good time. Me, enjoying the fresh wind on my face.

Some how the last year in this new town projected inside my mind as a movie in the theater.

I loved the liberty o living independently by myself without the influence of my over protective parents.

In my country of origin, girls don’t have much peace for freedom.

I told the kids it was time to take the dogs back home and they asked me if I would come back?

I told them that the schedule arranged by the owners settled me to come back to that park every Tuesday and Friday.

My friend Oreo accompanied us on the way back home.

We came across an ice cream truck by a Cuban sandwich parlor. Sandwich and ice cream it was.

Somehow my new life in the city was beginning to run like a well-oiled machine and I had this feeling that, after school started, It would be even better.

Unfortunately, after that, I would only have the weekends for ludic strolls like this one.

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