My human’s midlife crisis has officially begun

He's decided to lose weight for swimsuit season, so now we walk up to the fifth floor. Every day. No elevator. With me.

I've got nothing against the idea – if he really believes he'll get to show off swim trunks in Copenhagen and actually swim in that sea, good for him.But why do I have to take the stairs?

It's not about my joints. It's about my dignity.Do you know how many tempting smells I have to ignore on the way up?

There's a poodle on the first floor. I'd love to greet him – with a friendly tail-slap on his door. 

Second floor: school kids with snacks in their backpacks. I'd absolutely love to give them a quick lick.

Third floor: someone who definitely stores ham in their shoes. And me? Nothing. No sniffing. No licking. No joy.

"An apartment building isn't a parkour course, and silence is the new charisma," my human repeats daily.

P.S. If you're dealing with a similar domestic conflict, feel free to download my lifestyle guide on how to master city life without losing your dignity:

The Stylish Dog 
(12 urban situations and how to handle them like a civilized animal)