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Archive for July 24th, 2009

Running the dog #2

(See “Running the dog #1” under the Not so fast... tab.)

This week, morning and evening, i have been looking in on and walking Joey.

Joey is an American Eskimo Dog.  His little legs are about as long as my shoe – not really cross-country runner legs.  The first few days that we walked, Joey was happy doing a quick walk (the AKC says “trot”) – which is about as fast as my regular walk.

Maybe today he was feeling the gorgeous summer morning – bright, still a little cool in the shade but warm in the sun – two different climate zones that we would go in and out of.  Whatever it was, I think i was feeling it too.

Joey wanted to go a little faster.  I haven’t been a runner in a lot of years, since my longer legs decided that they didn’t really like running anymore (long before the rest of me – especially my mind and feelings – had decided it was time to hang up the running shoes).  My idea of a good workout these days is walking uphill (easy to find in these Appalachian Mountains – actually, hard to find anything else) at three different speeds – moderate, slow and stopped.

But this morning, picking up the pace a little felt great to me, too.  Now i was doing a fast walk (not a trot, which is harder for me).  Joey looked at me and said, “I can go even faster than this” – and picked up the pace a little more.  At this point, he was flat-out running and i was running too, at something a little this side of flat-out.

At this point, a very cool thing happened: Joey looked at me and i looked at him – and he winked at me.  Oh, OK, not exactly a wink, but i could hear him saying, “Hey, man, look at us – this is cool!”  OK, maybe not exactly “heard” – but kinda did.  You know.  You dog lovers who also hallucinate words emanating from your dogs know exactly what i mean.

When my son Terry was about eight, he and i learned to roller skate together.  My competency on skates progressed just slightly faster than did his, but he still wanted to hold my hand as we skated – thus opening a new window into the concept of false sense of security.  Sweet, i really did like it, but i couldn’t resist the thought, “Sorry kid, but if i go down I’m taking you down with me.”

But one Saturday afternoon at the roller rink, right at the end of the session, Terry started to feel more confident.  They always played a ballad at the end of the session – not exactly a waltz, but sweet and kind of dreamy late 70’s/early 80’s pop.  Maybe it was the relatively lyrical nature of the music, but Terry found his groove and voluntarily dropped my hand.  And he kinda started to fly.

He would focus intently on his skating, even as he was starting to let it flow – then he would look over at me.  Then back to the skating and then back at me.  And he winked at me.  OK, not literally winked – i don’t know that this is a behavior he has ever picked up.  But energetically, something in him winked.  And I could hear that part of him say, “Look at us – isn’t this cool?!”

And it was – very cool.

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