Running, with dogs.

So, got up early the other morning to get my run in. I’ll be honest, I’ve been slacking. The dark mornings are not very motivating. And, I’ve had a cold. Not feeling great and certainly not well enough to run. At least very well.

Got a puppy this summer. Her sole purpose (other than snuggles) is to be my running partner. She’s a Border Collie. She needs a job. She has great ‘eye’. This means that she doesn’t just look at you, she looks into you. Her face and eyes are black and even though she’s as sweet as pie, if she thinks you’re a threat to me, she doesn’t look friendly. And when the hair on her back goes up, you should probably cross the street. I have no fear running in the morning or evening with her – she sees everything.

Running Buddy.

I’ve had this cold, it lingers. Puppy was restless. Hadn’t had a run in four days. 

The alarm went off at 5:30. The dog pack jumped up. Well, some of them. Yes, it’s true. We have four dogs. 

One senior, two small dogs and the border collie. And, yes, I know it’s too many. But, the senior is three paws into the grave so it’s just a matter of time until we’ve got three dogs. Which is actually much more manageable and honestly, the perfect number for our house. Senior rolled over and refused to get up. The young three ran out to do their business. I let them back in when I went to the kitchen to have my pre-run toast with peanut butter. Small, spoiled girl dog went back to bed. Small boy dog sat there. With sad eyes. He clearly wanted to go run too.

Here’s the thing. He’s a hypoallergenic hybrid. He wasn’t cheap. He was flown cross-country. He’s the sweetest funniest little guy. And he has an adorable face. His legs, well, his legs are, to put it mildly, jacked up. He’s bow-legged. And his left foot is turned so far it almost looks like it’s on backward. Running is not for him. He needs a trip to the doggie version of Shriners hospital. He needs some Forest Gump braces on his legs. But, he looked so sad. And, well, if he wants to run, who am I to shatter his dreams?

For a 20-pound bow legged dog, the dude can pull. Border Collie runs on a gentle leader – goes around her nose. She doesn’t pull at all. Trots right along side. Gentle leader rules. So, I figure, I’ll put him in the gentle leader. 

Put Border Collie in a regular leash. She looks slightly offended that he’s using her collar and lead. We head outside. Turn on my running app and snap the leader on his face. 

And then all hell broke loose.

You’ve seen those fishing shows where they hook some giant shark or something and it runs to the end of the line and then throws itself in the air while trying to kill the person who hooked it. I’d have been less scared if a shark was on the end of this leash. It was quite a show.

I stopped and readjusted the lead. He calmed down and trotted along for a half block or so. Then had another utter meltdown.

Running app is not pleased with my distance or pace.

Stopped again. Adjusted.

Things were going better. He was right behind me - that seemed to work for a few blocks. He wasn't pulling at all.

And then, (the 'and then' is always the best part, you know?) the leash tightened behind me. I kept going, he's got to learn at some point. I stopped under a street light and glanced back. It took a moment to realize what was happening. He, with his desire to get the leader off his face, was hopping down the sidewalk on his back feet while desperately trying to push the leader off with his front paws. He was a small dog possessed. 

The readjustment, jog, readjust continued on. Until he won. At about mile 2. 

What was supposed to be seven miles, adjusted to five because of the cold ended up being 2.76. 

I didn't get my miles. Border Collie didn't get her miles. Spoiled boy dog slept for two days.

There's a winner in there somewhere.

What? These legs are fine!