Did you know that there are pooch-friendly races out there?
What a lovely idea! I have been googling about, looking for the perfect
5K race that Oliver and I could shoot for sometime in the fall. My
first choice would have been to find one near my daughter, Beatriz, who
lives in Chicago, but she said her apartment building does not allow
dogs. Well, that's no fun. I do not relish the idea of finding a
dog-friendly hotel.
So my second choice would be to ask Bea to come home whatever weekend and run with me in a poochie race around here. I think she would be my most reliable racing partner.
Now the issue becomes, not getting Oliver in shape for a 5K – for his part Oliver happily goes wherever I go, love handles and all. Rather the issue becomes (and maybe the issue always was…) getting the too-much-of-MOI in shape.
Nevertheless, in the spirit of racing, today Ivy and I took our first Ollie-friendly bike ride. It was a herding turtles experience, for sure. First came collecting the necessary preparatory materials: water bottle, collapsible doggie cup, leash, 2 poop bags, wallet, phone, sunglasses. Then the backpack to carry everything in. Bikes out, ready to roll, and 25 yards down the sidewalk…potty break. Off the bike, off with the backpack, find the poop bag, scoop the poop, tie the bag to the handle bars of the bike, re-shoulder the backpack, and off again. Another 100 yards to the end of the subdivision – busy road. Off the bike, find the leash, clip Ollie in. And we're off again…until the first car comes. Duck up a driveway and hop off the bike and wait, just to be safe. And so it went. (This road is lightly trafficked, but the cars go fast when they come.)
So it took a ridiculously long time and some patience on Ivy's part just to get to the bike trail safely. Once we were there, it was smooth, if slow, sailing.
In truth, it was a bit of a comical charade of mutual consideration. Ollie seemed to feel responsible for making sure Ivy and I stayed together. He positioned himself behind Ivy, but in front of me, and kept looking back over his shoulder to make sure I hadn't fallen too far behind. For our parts, Ivy and I were doing our best to go slowly to make sure we weren't pushing his chubby little body too hard, that he wasn't over-heated or too thirsty.
But we found our rhythm, and Oliver found ways to make his needs known: when he got too tired, he would find a shady spot and poop. He figured out quickly that that meant I had to stop, get off the bike, clean up the mess, resituate myself…and I would probably also offer him some water. He's a sneaky little Pete, but that's okay. I don't want him dreading a bike ride either.
Ivy and I stopped at a coffee shop in town on the way home. We each got an iced Chai Latte and enjoyed an outdoor table with Ollie collapsed at our feet. He definitely behaves better in public when he's exhausted!
So, we all win. Happy day!
So my second choice would be to ask Bea to come home whatever weekend and run with me in a poochie race around here. I think she would be my most reliable racing partner.
Now the issue becomes, not getting Oliver in shape for a 5K – for his part Oliver happily goes wherever I go, love handles and all. Rather the issue becomes (and maybe the issue always was…) getting the too-much-of-MOI in shape.
Nevertheless, in the spirit of racing, today Ivy and I took our first Ollie-friendly bike ride. It was a herding turtles experience, for sure. First came collecting the necessary preparatory materials: water bottle, collapsible doggie cup, leash, 2 poop bags, wallet, phone, sunglasses. Then the backpack to carry everything in. Bikes out, ready to roll, and 25 yards down the sidewalk…potty break. Off the bike, off with the backpack, find the poop bag, scoop the poop, tie the bag to the handle bars of the bike, re-shoulder the backpack, and off again. Another 100 yards to the end of the subdivision – busy road. Off the bike, find the leash, clip Ollie in. And we're off again…until the first car comes. Duck up a driveway and hop off the bike and wait, just to be safe. And so it went. (This road is lightly trafficked, but the cars go fast when they come.)
So it took a ridiculously long time and some patience on Ivy's part just to get to the bike trail safely. Once we were there, it was smooth, if slow, sailing.
In truth, it was a bit of a comical charade of mutual consideration. Ollie seemed to feel responsible for making sure Ivy and I stayed together. He positioned himself behind Ivy, but in front of me, and kept looking back over his shoulder to make sure I hadn't fallen too far behind. For our parts, Ivy and I were doing our best to go slowly to make sure we weren't pushing his chubby little body too hard, that he wasn't over-heated or too thirsty.
But we found our rhythm, and Oliver found ways to make his needs known: when he got too tired, he would find a shady spot and poop. He figured out quickly that that meant I had to stop, get off the bike, clean up the mess, resituate myself…and I would probably also offer him some water. He's a sneaky little Pete, but that's okay. I don't want him dreading a bike ride either.
Ivy and I stopped at a coffee shop in town on the way home. We each got an iced Chai Latte and enjoyed an outdoor table with Ollie collapsed at our feet. He definitely behaves better in public when he's exhausted!
So, we all win. Happy day!
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