"You are the last person on earth I'd think would end up running with the dogs."
A person who runs with the dogs, doesn't really have a solid foothold in the company of humans. The ties that bind have given way, and that person has found themselves on the ground with all the doggies, big and small. Loyalty, consistency, trustworthiness, these are qualities that the dogs respect. Silence is a natural state. Barking and growling are only tools to find one's space and are usually employed sparingly.
You are in the elements, always. You breathe the air, whether it's fresh or not. You gravitate to parks, to the lakefront, any place where trees and grass and the sound of the wind and water predominate. You matriculate in the world of the humans, but you don't really belong. You can cater to their expectations, you can hold a conversation, you can gain their trust, but you aren't really of the same kind.
You are a little bit wild, feral, mangy. You are physical. Your body, what it needs, how it moves, these are your most important concerns. Your every step counts. And as long as you move with the dogs, you know you are alive. And being alive, that's the whole game.