Every day, rain or shine or Shinola, I take our dog, Bella, out for a walk. It’s good for both of us, and as her doggy daddy, it’s my responsibility to ensure that she gets her minimum daily requirement of free-range fun.

During our walks Bella chases rabbits that she never catches and digs for gophers she never finds. She seems to have learned that it’s not about the destination so much as it’s about the journey. As her dad, I will gladly take credit for her acquiring that nugget of wisdom.

East of our farmhouse is a slough that the government and Mother Nature have designated as a permanent wetland. And Mother Nature always gets the last word.

Bella and I often visit the slough. This is an extremely pleasant diversion at this time of year.

I will walk to the summit of the rocky escarpment that affords a commanding view of the entire wetland. The warbling, screechy songs of yellow-headed blackbirds waft up from amidst the slough. As Bella plows and splashes through the cattails and canary grass, a bevy of blue-winged teal might take flight, quacking in protest at the canine’s rude intrusion. A pair of Canada geese paddle proudly across the pond, their six plump, gray offspring in tow.

Unlike many species — such as humans — Canada geese mate for life. The daddy goose does what he can to help raise their offspring, although the responsibility for birthing the eggs always falls to the mom. The daddy goose wisely realizes that some tasks simply must be delegated to those who are blessed with certain abilities.

I don’t know what happens if a goose’s mate passes on. Does the remaining goose pine away, or does she join a gossipy gaggle that plays marathon mah-jongg matches? Inquiring minds want to know.

One morning when Bella was a pup, we saw a pair of geese standing in the field near our house. They were honking vociferously, as if they were proclaiming that they now owned our farm. When Bella trotted out to investigate, the geese unfurled their wings – which looked as large as those of a 747 – and took flight.

Bella rocketed back to me like a furry black bullet. She then proceeded to speed toward the house, looking back over her shoulder as if to say, “Those things are HUGE! You’re on your own, buddy!”

Bella has since learned that the geese are much more frightened of her that she is of them. I had to let her discover this on her own.

Sometimes it’s a dad’s job to let his offspring learn things the hard way. You can tell a child not to sit on a hot stove, but he or she won’t comprehend the why of it until they get some first-hand experience with derriere discomfort.

My wife and I recently attended a local production of the play “Fiddler on the Roof.” Tevye, its chief protagonist, is the father of five daughters. As the story unfolds, it slowly dawns on Tevye that he has little to no influence on his teenaged daughters’ decisions. Such is a dad’s lot in life.

When children are little, their dad is an all-powerful, all-knowing deity. For instance, should your child ask why the sky is blue you might reply confidently, “Because they ran out of yellow, red, and green.”

As the child grows older, they may begin to question some of your so-called “fatherly wisdom.” They might start to think that you don’t have all the answers and that you’ve been faking it all these years. This stings all the more because it’s pretty much the truth.

By the time the child reaches their late teens, they have probably formed the opinion that your mind is a black hole of emptiness. You’ve fallen from “knowing everything” to “knowing less than nothing.”

With any luck, as time goes on, life’s slings and arrows will cause the child to gradually realize that maybe good ol’ Dad wasn’t such a dolt after all. Perhaps the day will come when your offspring actively seeks your wisdom. Which you will gladly dispense, given how hard-won that wisdom is.

If a guy is extremely fortunate, he will be blessed with the honorific title of Grandpa. This means that you can begin anew the process of molding a young mind. But this time you won’t make any of those rookie mistakes.

For example, if your grandchild asks why the sky is blue, you’ll be ready. You’ll be able to reply in a manner that’s so confident that it puts your wisdom beyond question:

“Because it was the only Magic Marker color that wasn’t all dried out.”

— Jerry’s book, “Dear County Agent Guy,” can be found at www.workman.com and in bookstores nationwide.