Running With Ruby

I used to be a runner. Or I've been a runner. Or I'm a runner on hiatus. Not quite sure how to phrase it. I enjoy the activity, and especially in times of crisis, I find it to be therapeutic. My Black Lab, Abby, used to run with me. She was a great partner and the thought of having another running buddy was enough to make me break out the running shoes last weekend. I've been warned not to run long distances with Ruby until she's a year old. Her bones are still pretty soft and that much activity can amplify the bone issues Great Danes have as they age. But, not having run regularly for a couple of years, long distance isn't on my radar anyway. So on a walk last weekend, I picked up the pace to a light jog.

I run like a normal human. Far from perfect form, but with one foot in front of the other, leash in hand, positive thoughts in my head.

Ruby, runs like this:



I jogged 10 steps and it was GAME ON. First she spent about a block leaping repeatedly at me, big stupid smile on her face, making it quite a challenge not to trip over her, or laugh my ass off. I worked that out with commands and the leash, but then she thought that since I was running, she could also run. As fast as her legs would carry her. Since she has twice as many legs as I do, this was not going to work. She hit the end of the flexi at mach 1, nearly yanking me off my feet.

So we stopped and had a short discussion and started again. This time, she ran about 20 feet backwards, barking at me the whole time until she tripped over her own feet and rolled in a big heap on the sidewalk, almost taking me down again. Thank goodness I'm so nimble. At that point we went back to a brisk walk and then increased slowly to a run. By the time we reached home, she was actually running forward, like a normal dog.

One pass around the neighborhood made me realize it's not just the prospect of physical harm that will keep me from running with Ruby right now. We're not trying that again anytime soon.