A Day in the Life of a Dog Walker: The Chaos, the Mud, and the Questionable Life Choices
Wake up. Regret everything. Get out of bed anyway.
My day starts at 7 AM, not because I love mornings (I don’t), but because I have responsibilities, like eating, getting ready, and taking my own dog, Uly, out. Some days she joins my walks, some days she doesn’t, but she still needs her morning outing because, well, puppy energy is a force of nature.
Then comes breakfast with my daughter, Kira, where I try to shove food into my system while simultaneously prepping my lunch because, spoiler alert: I don’t get an actual lunch break. I leave at 8:50 AM, and from that moment on, my life is controlled by dogs and London traffic.
The Collection Madness
From 9 to 10 AM, I drive around collecting dogs for the first walk. Since I’m still growing my business, some mornings are quieter—maybe one or two dogs, sometimes three. They all live about 10 minutes apart, which sounds manageable until you factor in unexpected roadworks, bin lorries blocking entire streets, and, of course, London drivers.
Once all the dogs are collected, we head to the forest or park, depending on the day. At this point, I like to pretend I have control over the situation.
Walk #1: The Well-Behaved Group (Mostly)
The first walk lasts about an hour and a half. This is the “good group”—dogs who (usually) listen, don’t run off into the abyss, and don’t actively try to ruin my life. At Vivi’s walkies, we practice commands, hand out treats, and reinforce training. And, of course, I’m on full-time poop duty.
Then comes the post-walk wash. This is where things get interesting. I have a portable Mud Daddy shower, but most dogs act like I’m about to drown them. So, I got a paw cleaner instead, which they tolerate slightly more. Still, it’s a battle. Some let me clean them nicely, others act like I’m committing a crime against their existence. If we’re lucky and parked near concrete, they stay somewhat clean. If not… well, I try my best.
Then I drop them all off, and that’s Round One complete.
Walk #2: The “Chaotic Energy” Group
Now, onto midday walks. This group? Different vibe entirely. These are the dogs who bring drama. They fight over sticks, treats, and sometimes just for fun. The first 30 minutes can be tense until they settle into their routine (or get too tired to keep up the chaos).
And then, the car situation. Right now, I don’t use crates because I wanted the dogs to feel more at home and comfortable. But the reality is, crates are much safer, and I’m seriously considering adding them—maybe for some dogs, maybe for all. The tricky part is that many anxious dogs struggle with crates, and for those owners, it’s already hard to find someone who doesn’t use them. So, I’m still figuring out the best balance. Safety comes first, but I also want to make sure I can accommodate the dogs who need more freedom.
Post-walk? Another wash session. By this point, my car, my clothes, and my soul are all covered in mud. I try to let the dogs shake off before getting in the car, but some still decide that mid-drive is the perfect time to do it. My car ceiling has seen things.
The Never-Ending To-Do List
After dropping everyone off, the day isn’t over. I have towels to clean, emails to answer, marketing strategies to plan, and business decisions to make. Then, of course, I need to cook, eat, and exist as a human. And if it’s the weekend? Probably delivering flyers, improving my website, or figuring out how to make my business better.
Why Do I Do This?
Is it exhausting? Yes.
Do I get covered in mud and dog drool daily? Absolutely.
But there’s something about this job that makes it all worth it.
Unlike sitting in an office, I get to see the seasons change before my eyes. I walk in nature, breathe fresh air, and witness things most people don’t notice anymore. Humans have lost touch with nature—we’ve built cities, schedules, and screens that keep us disconnected from the world around us. But when you spend hours outside every day, you start to notice things again.
The way the trees shift through the seasons, the different bird songs in the morning, the stillness of an empty forest.
Most people don’t even realize what they’re missing. We’ve forgotten what it’s like to really be in nature, to move with it instead of against it. But every walk reminds me that we’re meant to be part of something bigger, something simpler. That’s what keeps me going.
(That, and the dream of a self-cleaning car.)
