The Reality of Being a Dog Walker: It’s Not All Sunshine, Selfies and Strolls

Every now and then, a celebrity pops up on TV claiming dog walkers “have it easy” and “earn a fortune”. Most recently, it was Kelly Brook on I’m a Celebrity…, and honestly… I had to laugh. Not a cute, graceful laugh — more like the hysterical, sleep-deprived kind we dog walkers produce at 7am while scraping mud off a van floor.

So let’s talk about the real life of a professional dog walker. Because trust me — it’s a whole different world from what people imagine.

We Don’t Just Walk Dogs. We Manage a Circus With Fur.

The idea that we spend our days “skipping through fields with dogs” is adorable… and wildly inaccurate. Some days, yes, there is skipping. But usually it’s because we stepped on a thistle while trying to stop two spaniels from joyfully launching themselves into a swamp.

Not all dog walks are calm, peaceful or Instagram-ready.

We walk dogs who have varying levels of training, their own moods and opinions, and a talent for drama. Dogs who think every pigeon is part of a government conspiracy. Dogs who behave perfectly until someone watches — and then suddenly act like they’ve never heard their name.

And because I only do group walks, out in the countryside, it’s less “Sound of Music” and more “organised chaos led by a woman with treats, optimism, and fairly dodgy knees”.

A Dog Walker’s Injuries Should Have Their Own NHS Category

Let’s talk about the injuries. My knees? They hate me. My plantar fasciitis? Also hates me. Yet here I am, marching across fields like I’m being chased by council tax debt.

We collect:

• mystery bruises

• sore shoulders

• back pain

• foot pain that feels like walking on Lego

• and the occasional rolled ankle thanks to a root pretending to be flat ground

And still, we show up every day — limping, smiling, and wondering why we didn’t choose a quiet indoor job like knitting.

We Work in Every Weather the UK Throws at Us

People often say, “You must love working outdoors!” They usually say this while I’m standing in sideways rain, holding a lead that is being enthusiastically dragged by a spaniel who believes storms are motivational.

We walk in rain, the other kind of rain, the sideways rain, the “wasn’t forecast” rain, and the drizzle that pretends to be gentle but soaks you to the bone.

Plus snow, fog, heatwaves, hailstones, and mud that could swallow a van.

There’s Always “That Dog” on the Walk

Every group has:

The Sprinter: The one who tests their recall the moment a stranger appears on the horizon.

The Spooker: Hears a door slam three miles away and is convinced the apocalypse has begun.

The Diplomat: Believes every person wants to shake paws.

The Chaos Goblin: No explanation needed.

And they always behave perfectly when nobody is around. But add an audience? Suddenly they’re auditioning for Britain’s Got Zoomies.

The Van Commute Is… Interesting

My van is designed for calm transport — no windows for barking at people, no chaos. However, there is Frank. Frank whines in dramatic anticipation of the entire walk ahead. It’s like travelling with a furry kettle that never quite boils.

Fox Poo: The Hidden Villain

People don’t realise the daily battle we face with fox poo. Dogs treat it like perfume. They seek it out with the determination of truffle pigs. And don’t get me started on human poo. Truly, there are horrors in those woods you are not prepared for.

And Then There’s The Public Commentary…

We hear these every single day:

“You’ve got your hands full!”

“Are they all yours?”

“Bet they keep you fit!”

“That looks like such an easy job!”

Meanwhile I’m casually trying to stop someone rolling in unspeakable substances, redirect a spaniel who’s found a muddy puddle, block another dog from greeting a jogger, and pretend this is exactly how the walk was supposed to go.

Behind the Walks Is a Full-Time Business

People see the dogs. They don’t see the admin,

• bookkeeping, contracts

• fuel bills

• insurance,

• van maintenance

• behaviour qualifications

• social media

• website upkeep

• risk assessments

• client communication

• and the never-ending cleaning of everything the dogs have lovingly decorated.

Dog walkers don’t just walk dogs. We run entire businesses single-handedly.

Why I Still Love What I Do

Despite the mud, injuries, weather, chaos, fox poo, Frank’s operatic whines, and the dogs who choose the worst possible moment to play up — I love my job.

I love the woods, the fields, the fresh air, the routine, and the wagging tails. I love seeing nervous dogs grow confident, watching friendships form, and being trusted with someone’s beloved family member.

Being a dog walker is not easy. But it is, without question, the best job in the world.