The world is in disorder, our rights and freedoms are under threat, but some things remain unchanged: for one, dogs still need to be walked. Our dogs depend on us for their outdoor lives – their basic exercise and stimulation.
It wasn’t always so. I remember simpler times — “the old days” — when dogs roamed free in town, mine included. (His name was Napi.) Technically, it was illegal, and Philly Alexander, the beloved dog warden, was always after me (or us). For all sorts of reasons, almost all of them good ones, leashes now prevail, and a lone dog trotting along is a rare sight.
We love our dogs, don’t we? We lavish attention on them and want only the best for them. They get special diets, vitamins, state-of-the-art medical care, doggy attire, toys, and — most of all — attention. But sometimes we can’t manage their walks because mobility issues have made it a physical challenge or because of work priorities. Or perhaps we just need a break. What to do?
One option is to call a professional dog walker. Enter Paul E. Halley, better known as Paulie. (I can’t resist saying, “Better call Paul.”) You most likely have seen him around, a nice-looking man with a pleasant smile and flowing shoulder-length hair (maybe the longest hair on a man in town), walking along with one or two dogs. I spent some time with him on a sunny day with birdsong all about us as he walked a dog named Porter. It seemed idyllic, but he reminded me that he walks dogs in the rain as well: they seem to mind it more than he does.
How does one become a professional dog walker? In Paulie’s case, it just seemed to happen on its own. He has been in town since 1987 — another case of “came for the summer and never left.” He did what so many of us do when we get here: restaurant work. Paulie rattled off the names of five restaurants where he waited tables (he also was for a time a friendly pharmacist at Stop & Shop).
But as many of you know, restaurant work can be stressful. He remembers saying to his husband, “I wish I could make a living just playing with dogs all day.” In 2017, he answered an ad in the paper, and so it began, first as “a side hustle.” But word-of-mouth soon got him all the dog-walking gigs he could handle.
Paulie usually walks six or seven dogs a day, usually for an hour each. In the summer he averages about 12 miles of walking (his record is 19 miles). He rides his bike from job to job; he is very fit. This would appear to be a dream job, although he does pick up a ton of poop; the hour or so I spent with him was a “three bagger.”
He describes his work as “dropping in on friends of mine.” He has walked most of these friends for more than five years. Although he has occasionally been treated “like the hired help,” the overwhelming response he gets from clients is pure doggy love. To the dogs he walks, he is “the fun uncle.”
And so, Paulie walks these dogs all over town, east to west, on the beach, and along the Old Colony Nature Path. He has discovered back ways and shortcuts and places unknown to most. He showed me a route that I have overlooked for over 50 years. In town, he and his dogs are a welcome sight. He says it’s like “walking with movie stars.” Wasn’t Provincetown voted the most dog-friendly town in America? We do love our dogs.
Paulie takes his dog-walking seriously, and his customers trust him implicitly. He describes it as a “growth industry” and encourages others to get into it, as he has all the work he can handle.
Like many people in Provincetown, Paulie has another dimension: he is a gifted actor. You may recall his Grinch monologues at the Townie Christmas shows or his stunning performances in Casa Valentina and The Laramie Project at the Provincetown Theater.
But for now, his performance is mainly on the street, and his costars are a series of the town’s luckiest dogs.
