I grew up taking care of a pug. When I was only 4 years old, she came into my life at the young age of two months. She amazingly lived until she was nearly 17. For all those years, I took care of her— playing with her and petting her endlessly. We would often relax together, getting cozy with blankets. She loved to play outside in the yard with me and catch some sun rays too. We bounced off each other's energy. I always made sure she was fed and hydrated and taken outside for the bathroom. My pug Penny had been in my care from the days of her potty training and first learning special commands, to being senile and needing extra assistance in terms of mobility and lack of hearing and sight. More recently, I had dog sat for my friend. My friend's dog needs about 4 hours of walking total per day, so we were always on the move. My friend's dog is getting old, and I could gauge when she was getting tired when we were walking and I adjusted to her needs. I always have water handy. She also loved playing the game where I hid her sheep plushie toy around the house in such good hiding spots that it would impress me when she would almost immediately find it and run it back to me, wanting me to hide it again in a new, more difficult to find spot.