An ode to my Pooch

Today was supposed to be my rest day.  And it was going just great.  But today was also our farm share pickup after work, and the dog was pent up longer than usual.  He was exceptionally annoying energetic when I got home.  Fiiiine, I moaned, let’s go for a nice long walk.

Except he didn’t want to walk- he wanted to run.  He probably feels slighted because I don’t run with him much- and now he’s grown bored of the leisurely stroll in his ripe old age of 8 months.  He thought, ‘the bald kid’s not here?!  No stroller?!  Let’s go nuts!’  Or he saw a squirrel.

Everytime I tried to slow down he whimpered like a little pansy.  So we ran around our three mile block.  He in his paws, me in my flip flops. Not the smartest thing for me to do, I’m sure, but the dog’s worn out so I’d say we’re all good.  I can only imagine how fascinating I looked to the people of the town.  “Look at her!  The freak in the flip flops and her cow dog!”  That’s what they were saying, I bet.

Worn out there, aren’t ya buddy?  Better think twice next time you start to run with this girl! 

There’s nothing like a good old energetic pooch waiting for you at home to get you out there moving!  Without his exercise, he’s a monster dog.  Nobody likes a monster dog.  Thanks, Macaroni, for the run.

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