Dog Jogging Pt. 1

Ritter is going to have his first dog training class on Saturday! (Which of course I'll write about) In order to help quell Ritter's innate anxiety, my mom's been given the task of getting Ritter accustomed to exercising sans Lilah as she usually prevents him from doing so. So while my mom takes him out on her own to play in a "fenced in meadow," I've been taking Lilah on run/walks.

Lilah, despite having gone through basic training, isn't the best walker. She does, however, love to run. So for the past few days, I've put on my running shoes and taken her on run/walks. For the most part she does remarkably well. Once she finally stops squealing and yipping in excitement. And I finally convince her that no, we're not going to the car. And she finally stops trying to backpedal to the front porch. And I finally get her past our property line.

Aside from all that it takes to get her started, she's actually quite pleasant to jog with. I slowly jog while she keeps a quick trot. Every now and then I have to suddenly halt when she decides a spot of grass needs to be marked. Or when she decides to poop. And then poops again a few blocks later. After I've already used and thrown away the one poop bag I brought along...I have since learned to tie on three bags to her leash, just in case.

The only problem is once we reach the home stretch, that straight shot of two blocks to home, Lilah takes off at a full sprint. Now I can run pretty fast, my bow-legged-ness giving me a springy-quick stride, but Lilah has a body meant for speed. You know how a running cheetah has a spine that allows it to flex and bow? Yeah, Lilah's long back does that. Her mad dash for home requires that I stomp down hard to maintain my balance and to kind of rein her in.

So down the two blocks we go, Lilah wild-eyed and foaming at the mouth, panting so hard it sounds like a warthog on the rampage. And me, with my loud stomping, ugly form and silent plea for her to trot back home on a loose leash like a normal, tired dog.

Somehow I find myself at home, nearly collapsing on the front steps as Lilah's spittle covers her muzzle and her drool starts to pool at her feet. Zero dignity.