Taking a dog for a run
My dog is multi-skilled but his great talent lies in running, bear fast (as the kids say), usually in an anti-clockwise oval shape at about 20 m.p.h. until he’s knackered – which doesn’t take very long.
The last time I ran a 10K I trained with my old dog (“the one true pet” as I like to call him now he is no longer alive to remind me constantly of all his troublesome ways) Senna. Training with him kept me honest, it gives you the distraction I so badly need and he could lickety-split along with me until I collapsed, and then go again in his youth. None of this comatose business on the sofa we get from mark 3. (Mark 2 is marvellous veteran of a collie cross persuasion and he was a great running companion too but he didn’t like the kids – he now lives the life of a stockbroking dog with my one true friend).
Anyway, I can clearly track my stopping running to when Senna’s heart started to give out and we couldn’t run too far any more. I didn’t like going out without him frankly, it was boring, somewhat disloyal and reminded me that we didn’t have him forever. We had him for 12 and a half years (which was good for a dog of his size) and he has been gone for two now. Rudi has not stepped into his paws in many ways – and rightly so – he is his own dog. Just lately though the blonde one has appeared a little more sensible, a little more mindful of the bond between dog and mistress, a little more like the one true pet.
So, after a few disastrous attempts some while ago, I am planning today to give him another whirl in the runningwhilstonaleadattachedtoyourowner department. Previous attempts have resembled me being attached to a dog in a giant catapult, hazardous and impossible to establish any cadence. The reason for the renewed effort is that today I have to step up in trip – 4 miles in fact – and that will be both hard and boring and bringing along a flighty sort will be a livener. Either that or I will trip over him and we will both look a pair of plonkers.