When we got Maggie all those years ago, we’d take her for hour-long walks every day and she’d still have an endless supply of energy afterwards.
As she got older, she’d start to get tired after forty-five minutes of walking, so we dropped her walk time down to thirty-ish minutes.
These days she still has the mental enthusiasm for half-hour walks, but if we walk for too long in one go, her body pays for it the next day. So we’re now down to fifteen-ish minute walks every morning; with maybe a five or ten minute walk in the evening if she’s up for it.
Not that she minds. She still loves walking through our neighbourhood and foraging for whatever she can eat. But she’s become a lot more chill as she’s gotten older, with fewer fucks to give about the world. And, as long as she knows where we are, she’s no longer in a mad rush to follow us from room-to-room as we move around the house. Unless it’s nearing her walk time or dinner time, of course, in which case she’ll make her presence know no matter where we are and what we’re up to! But otherwise she’s content with her slower pace of life.