Technology has penetrated every nook and cranny of our lives. But one last place you might think exempt is the realm of dog walking. Simply stated, what could email, texting and Instagram add to the experience of walking your dog, to enhance the relationship between owner and pet?

Dog Valentino stands in a tub of water while on a walk with a dog walker from the company Swifto. Kevin Hagen for The Wall Street Journal

A lot as it turns out. I'm not talking about donning a pair of headphones as you and Fido circle the block, which I nonetheless consider kind of rude because dog walking is all about sharing the sights and sounds. You're a team, after all. What makes your relationship so rich is the knowledge, or at least the heartfelt believe, that you and your pooch are on the same wavelength. You share similar attitudes and values—about other dogs you regularly encounter along your walks, their owners, even whether the mayor's effort to limit the size of soft drinks is a good thing or constitutes obnoxious government intrusion on our privacy.

Dog walker Brett walks Valentino Kevin Hagen for The Wall Street Journal

Of course, when pressed, most of us, except those hearing voices, would have to admit we have absolutely no idea what our dog is thinking, or if he's thinking anything at all. But it's the suspension of disbelief that lies at the heart of the canine/human relationship, no less so than that between a novelist and his or her readers.

The app for Swifto, the dog walking service you can track on your phone Kevin Hagen for The Wall Street Journal

Therefore, I was skeptical when I learned about a dog-walking service called Swifto whose features include allowing you to track your dog's progress via GPS from your office, or the airport in Rangoon, for that matter, when you're unavailable to walk Mr. Good yourself. (I'm not simply picking a name out of hat; Mr. Good is a beagle I once knew, even though he roamed the Earth long before the Internet and also lived in Maine, where I assume people still walk their own dogs. I just always loved the name Mr. Good, though the pooch also answered to Jason.)

It's not that I deny the value or importance of having a first-class dog walker as part of your team. Jason needs to do his business just like the rest of us. On the other hand, I'm not sure how necessary it is to receive real-time updates on his bowel movements, another of Swifto's selling points.

Nonetheless, I vowed to keep an open mind as I joined Brett, one of the company's walkers as he went about his rounds one afternoon last week. Brett asked that his last name not be used. I didn't ask why, though it may have something to do with dog walking constituting something less than the best use of his MBA.

Brett was picking up Tino, a shepherd/Lab/boxer mix, in the west 40s and taking him on a spirited hour-long walk. It included stops at two dog runs where Tino (which is short for Valentino) wallowed in the therapeutic waters of each run's respective kiddie pools.

Like most self-respecting pooches, Tina made a beeline for the nearest tree, already dead, as soon as he hit the fresh air.

By the way, Brett does not alert the dog's owner, Matthew Ruffi, who's in advertising, when Tino tinkles. But there is an icon on the dog owner's live Internet feed of a dog in the characteristic squat position when he makes #2. There's no signifier for #1.

"Especially not with male dogs," Brett noted sensibly. "Because they pee all the time."

The app also shows the dog's current location, elapsed time since the start of the walk, and has a space for messages. "We were able to get in and out before it started raining," Brett reported after a recent walk. "He's happy with the new bag of beggin' strips…"

For the record, Tino's a good boy who deserves every last treat he receives. A 5-year-old rescue that Mr. Ruffi told me over the phone he acquired in Michigan before he moved to New York, the dog has all those great qualities we associate with the American heartland—warmth, openness and a seeming willingness to take others at face value, even if he's possessed of a certain taciturnity.

Another thing Tino has going for him is that he's regular. As any dog owner will tell you there's no talent more appreciated in a pet, especially when it's raining or freezing outside, than their willingness to get down to business promptly. I'd go so far as to say that when they're relieved we're relieved.

So I take back everything I said regarding the absurdity of Swifto sending clients bowel-movement progress reports. It's integral to their business model—as important, if not more, than the meet and greet they conduct with owners when they sign up, the fact that their walkers are bonded and college educated, and that Brett will even send Mr. Ruffi images of Tino as he makes friends, or as Brett tries to wrestle food off the street from his mouth. Well, maybe he doesn't go quite that far.

"You wouldn't realize until you walk a dog how many food scraps are on the ground in New York," he said.

While Swifto declines to walk dogs from multiple homes at the same time—"I wonder how much they walk," he sniffed, referring to those walkers from other companies who look like Roman chariot drivers, dragged along behind a motley crew of poodles, Pomeranians, Great Danes, Weimaraners, vizslas and dachshunds. "They seem to be standing there untangling leashes"—the company will condescend to walk multiple dogs from the same household. For instance, a client of Brett's on the Upper West Side has two Lab mixes and one Shih Tzu—one of the Labs friendly, the other ferocious—and the owner is able to track the progress of each dog separately. (I forgot to ask, but I assume there isn't any icon for when your dog bites another animal or a child and a lawsuit is in the offing.)

Mr. Ruffi admitted that Brett may occasionally tell him more than he needs to know. But consider the alternatives. "They wouldn't show up," he said, referring to horror stories he's heard about other dog-walking services. "Or they go to their friend's house in the neighborhood and the dog would just sit there."

Brett, on the other hand, seems to track and report everything short of Tino's blood pressure and lipids.

Nonetheless, you couldn't fully appreciate the mutt's vast composure at the first dog run, along the Hudson River and just south of the Intrepid Sea, Air and Space Museum, because it was off-hours and he didn't encounter any friends. He had the place—including the kiddie pool, which he went straight for, just as Brett predicted—pretty much to himself.

But his balanced personality was very much on display at our second stop, the dog run at DeWitt Clinton Park on 49th Street and 11th Avenue. Two large boisterous black dogs were making a spectacle of themselves, splashing in and out of the pool, and chasing each other back and forth, while pretty much giving Tino the cold shoulder.

Nonetheless, Tino ignored the slight, finding a peaceful corner of the small pool, doing his best to ignore their obnoxiousness, and setting about with the serious business of cooling off on a hot summer day.

"The only thing he dislikes is pigeons," Brett observed affectionately.

Don't we all.