Here in Scottsdale, Chairman Bao and I are more likely to be walking than driving, What they call Old Scottsdale is a pedestrian's delight. Meandering avenues, squares, fountains, trees, bridges, a canal, shops, al fresco restaurants -- sort of like the River Walk in San Antonio, without the river.

They say if you walk five miles per week, you're at significantly less risk of a stroke or a heart attack. And Bao enjoys walking, up to a point. He'll trot along happily for a mile (more if there are other dogs around) but then suddenly, it's over. He stops in his tracks, and sits down. The little legs are tired. He's done.

That's why we've got the stroller. Here he is with our friend Luz, in one of the many plazas. He's had his walk, and he's had prosciutto and cheese from my fabulous panini, and a sip of my zinfandel. Now he's mellow, ready to curl up and watch the world go by as I push his stroller home.

Ah, well. It's a dog's life.