I'm slowly picking at the white hairs all over my black jeans this morning. While I (unproductively) occupy my time in between office crises I began to think about the source of my decoration...my companion of the last eleven years.
And no, I am not talking about my loving bride. This time I speak of my dog, and about dogs in general.
I've written in the past about how dogs make really good coaches - that "joy of the activity for the activity's sake," "rest when your body says so" attitude. I have friends with terriers and retrievers who rave about their benefit as training partners - I have a retired greyhound, emphasis on "retired." If it isn't a walk around the park it isn't happening. And that's all right, because I get the occasional sprint workout when Majic Rubin sees that his "mother" has come home from a day at the office. But when it comes to running, if there's one failing the domesticated canine possesses - albeit one which they should not be held to account for - they don't spectate worth a darn.
Sometimes we human companions forget that. While cruising through the local social media after my race last Saturday this post caught my attention...
"Ummmm, I apologize to the runners who got tangled with my dog this morning. (My husband) brought her out by the park to cheer everybody on and apparently she broke loose from her collar when I ran by to run with me. When she realized that was going to take too much work she casually ran back toward the runners. I know. Annoying. I'm sorry."
It's difficult to reason with an animal which possesses such a strong devotion to the human or humans it has chosen that it will free itself from the security and safety of the curb and other family members to join another member of the pack. Add to this devotion the pack and perhaps the hunting/pursuit instinct and it's a no-win situation for the human being. I did chuckle at the situation for two other reasons, though.
First, the canine co-owner just happens to be the proprietor of a running store, has produced one or more races and run in many. Yep, not this family's "first rodeo."
Second, the hound realized that racing along with one of its human family for the next eight kilometers or so was going to be too much work. Yes, the comfort of the grassy lot and a bowl of water was more irresistible.
I'm not necessarily going to say I think having dogs on a course is a bad idea, cruel or stupid. I wouldn't do it, having learned from hard experience with my mother's German Shorthaired Pointer. A few friends of mine have dogs with the stamina and endurance to trot ten kilometers at a clip which rivals my own, traversing wet, sloppy and mud-strewn hash trails with great relish. A little knowledge of the hound doesn't hurt.
Most races, and the providers who insure them consider the domesticated canine as more of a risk to joint, limb and integument than a co-participant. Unless the event is billed as dog-friendly (I've encountered a few which have made me want to go home and cuddle up with my d-a-w-g out of guilt.) then the animal/s in question will be lumped in with the constellation of items not allowed by the race director, to include bicycles, skateboards, baby joggers, roller skates or roller blades...and personal music players. A runner or walker might think it a cute thing to have "Snowball" taking up the rear of the pack with them, but it's something which makes those personal injury lawyers salivate like one of Pavlov's subjects.
This is not necessarily a diatribe against taking the furry kid to the local 5K run as much as it is a word of advice. Fido is more likely to have the strength of a three-year-old child on steroids and the desire to collect as much information around them rivaling the National Security Agency.