So, dear readers, I'm in need of your help. For reals.
As poet laureate Ke$ha would say, here's the sitch.
I have a pretty adorable dog (egregiously featured on this here blog) named Cooper. He's a rescue, and so he's a little bit crazy in the head, but in pretty similar ways to myself, so I at least kind of understand him. Also, although he's easily startled, can't drink water without throwing it all up (that's right, I feed my dog crushed ice), has better-but-still-bad separation anxiety and a tendency to spite-poop, I still count him a net positive since he's a GREAT traveler, has no problem with thunder and storms, and as previously mentioned (and evidenced), physically adorable.
Also, LAZY.
Seriously, most of the time, he is a total nap-whore. He will sleep with anyone, anytime, on any surface, for any reason and any length of time.
A large part of my argument when persuading my parents (pardon me, "Lessor(s)") to allow me to adopt this dear creature was that he was a energetic, young, just-barely-not-a-puppy, whose DNA was at least partially comprised of a completely batshit rambunctious breed known for their need to be exercised - though not on insanely long walks, like physically huge dogs, or those bred to run. PERFECT motivation to get out and walk and get some exercise, though not biting off more than I can chew (or walk, I guess) when I'm sick, since he, his skinny little stilts can't go to far or long without tiring, himself.
Wrong. I have never met a creature who gets as much actual JOY from laying around and/or sleeping, or who does so with as much frequency, as this little faux-fox. Except of course, me.
But even WE get a little stir-crazy and need some legit exercise from time to time. We also happen to live in a climate and near a city that combine to create some pretty intolerably toxic air in the summer. Not a problem for me, who can dance around my living room, or embarrass myself, alone, with attempts to keep up with Jackie Warner and friends on my teevee.
The pup, however, has a problem. He does not quite have the cognitive capabilities to follow along with a DVD (though I think I should get extra fitness points for dodging his attempts to weave around me and figure out double ewe tee eff I am doing), and, God love him, he sucks at fetch. I'm working on that, but in the meantime, his pent-up energy is resulting in lots of FRAPping and tapping me on the arm, repeatedly and with increasing intensity, until I stop typing (or folding, or unpacking) and address his needs. At which point I ask if he wants to play, he joyously bounds over to get his stuffy-carcass-de-jour, and brings it to me. I throw it, he goes and gets it, runs around a little bit, then plops down to chew it (seriously, he sucks at fetch). And this cycle repeats itself roughly three times hourly until he becomes mentally exhausted (or frustrated) enough to relieve his anguish with a nap.
All this to say, I'm really starting to stress out because I know he needs the exercise, and added structure, that the occasional walk would provide. But simply walking him to the end of our (seriously long) driveway when the air is like this leaves me feeling like my lungs are an inflatable pool toy in the hands of an angry toddler. I half expect them to voluntarily flop out onto the concrete and flop away, glaring at me as they leave.
So, fellow CFer's, or dog owners, or parents of rambunctious little asthmatics, or people who generally hate the outdoors, or whoever...
How can I keep my fetch-averse puppy exercised and happy when I'm unable to take him for walks?
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