The Explosion of Dog Walking – And Why the New Law Matters

I became a dog walker back in 2007, at a time when there were very few of us around. I still remember a walker travelling all the way from Ponteland just to walk a dog in Riding Mill — it really was that uncommon. Dog walking simply wasn’t the industry it is today. Fast forward to now, and in Hexham alone there are easily more than twenty dog walkers operating. The growth has been huge, and while some of that reflects changing lifestyles and an increase in dog ownership, it has also brought challenges that can no longer be ignored.

That rapid expansion is one of the reasons Northumberland has now introduced a law limiting dog walkers to a maximum of six dogs in public spaces. I’ll be honest — I was surprised to see it arrive here already. We tend to lag behind the southern counties when it comes to regulation, overpopulation, and enforcement, and we also have far more land. But laws don’t appear without reason. They are created because complaints have been made, incidents have happened, and similar problems have already been recognised elsewhere. Northumberland hasn’t acted in isolation; it has followed what other areas have already had to do.

On the surface, the law sounds straightforward. One person, six dogs, in a public space. But anyone who has real experience with dogs knows that numbers alone mean very little. Public space can mean vastly different things — a quiet woodland trail is not the same as Tyne Green on a busy day. Beyond that, six dogs tells you nothing about the dogs themselves. You could be walking six calm, well-trained, compatible dogs who move beautifully together, or you could be managing six overstimulated adolescents who are away from their owners, lacking boundaries, and suddenly thrown into a highly stimulating environment. Six adolescent dogs together is a nightmare I would never willingly choose. The variables multiply quickly, and this is where experience and judgement matter far more than a headcount.

I didn’t become a dog walker because it looked easy or lucrative. I became one because I had a dog, I was working, and I didn’t want to live a life where my dog was an afterthought. At first, I relied on family to help walk my dog, but I soon realised there was a gap and decided to create a business that allowed me to work with dogs rather than away from them. After nearly sixteen years, I stepped away from dog walking, not because I stopped caring, but because I cared deeply about doing the job properly. It is a physically demanding, emotionally draining role that people often underestimate, and over time I watched standards slip as pressure increased.

Running a dog walking business is hard. Vehicles alone can cover close to a hundred miles a day if you are busy, and fuel, maintenance, insurance, and time pressure all add up quickly. That pressure is often where corners get cut. What made it harder for me was seeing poor practices creeping into the industry and knowing how easily you can become associated with behaviour you fundamentally disagree with. Many people try dog walking and give up quickly when they realise how demanding it is. Others stay, but adapt in ways that prioritise efficiency over welfare.

One of the biggest misunderstandings is the idea that dog walking is simply picking up a dog and taking it for a stroll. In reality, you are often given keys to someone’s home, collecting their most loved companion, deciding whether that dog is suitable to mix with others, managing them around wildlife, livestock, traffic, and the public, and returning them safely, cleanly, and emotionally settled. And that is on a good day. There are days when you arrive to find a dog unwell, when you take a dog straight to the vet, when you walk into a house covered in diarrhoea, or when a dog that was fine with its owners tries to attack you once they’ve gone. I have seen all of it.

What genuinely worries me is how easily someone with very little dog experience can set themselves up as a dog walker. Almost overnight, they can be responsible for your dog in public spaces. Every walker has different beliefs about how a dog should behave on a walk. Some guide dogs gently, use harnesses, reward calm behaviour, and allow dogs to be dogs. Others believe in tight handling, slip leads, constant heel work, no sniffing, or physical corrections. Then there are those who let dogs off before they are ready, mix dogs that should never be mixed, or allow behaviour that puts everyone at risk. If someone is walking your dog five days a week, they are shaping your dog’s behaviour long-term, especially when your dog is young. That responsibility cannot be overstated.

Solo dog walkers are often underestimated and can be an excellent option. They tend to walk locally, avoid vehicle transport, and focus entirely on one dog. Group walkers, on the other hand, usually involve transport, and transport is one of the least questioned but most important parts of dog walking. Owners should be thinking about how dogs are secured in vehicles, whether they are sharing space with other dogs, whether crates are appropriate and secure, whether dogs are travelling in the dark, and how comfortable they are. Time is another factor. If a walker is collecting from multiple villages, a dog could easily spend over an hour travelling before the walk even begins. Some dogs cope well with that; others find it deeply stressful. Poor transport experiences can be the reason a dog suddenly refuses to get into a car at all.

Transparency matters. If you never see photos or videos of your dog on a walk, that should raise questions. Images can tell you how many dogs are present, where the walk actually takes place, who is interacting with your dog, what equipment is being used, and how your dog looks emotionally. A good walker will also be honest if a dog does not suit a group, rather than simply continuing to take payment. Consent is equally important. Owners should explicitly agree to off-lead walking, group mixing, and travel arrangements. I have had clients discover their dog was being let off lead without permission, and that alone would be enough for me to walk away.

Health and welfare are another huge part of the job. Dogs in season, incompatible males, kennel cough, conjunctivitis, and dogs hovering on the edge of conflict all require fast, responsible decisions. A good walker removes a dog quickly when something isn’t working. A poor one keeps going and hopes for the best. Ethics matter too. If a walker believes in physical punishment and you don’t, that isn’t a small difference — it’s fundamental.

Good dog walkers notice changes. I have flagged subtle lameness, dogs that weren’t quite themselves, and dogs that had gone quiet or flat. In some cases, those observations led to veterinary checks that revealed serious illness. Walkers are often the first to see when something changes, and communication can quite literally save lives.

There is also a deeply human side to dog walking that rarely gets talked about. You walk into people’s lives at vulnerable moments — new babies, illness, grief, or the point where someone can no longer walk their own dog. For some people, their dog is their sole companion. That responsibility should never be taken lightly. I would never let a dog off lead on a first walk. Group walks can go wrong very quickly, whether through wildlife encounters, conflict between dogs, seasonal changes, or completely unpredictable external factors. Experience is what allows you to spot problems early.

Dog walking is not just a walk. It is trust, judgement, responsibility, and care — even when no one is watching. The new law isn’t really about numbers. It’s about recognising that how dogs are walked matters just as much as how many. If you are choosing someone to walk your dog, choose carefully.