I jog for many reasons. Health, fitness, the fitness of my dogs, AND sanity maintenance . When I don't run, the world, which is pretty danged depressing at baseline becomes over-whelming. Sometimes, life in the "Bucket List Inducement Field" sucks. The jogging helps me process that frustration. When I don't run, I tend to succumb to viral illnesses....I have a theory for that effect, but that's for another post.
Now, I have a few dogs. ALL of them love these morning jogs except for the sick old man Darby. He prefers to stay at home under a blanket, and given his problems, he deserves it. I always have a hard time leaving one or two behind.....those brown eyes staring at me with their tails wagging (or in the case of Mati, helicoptering.....). How can one leave one behind (and when I do, I hear the howls of disappointment).
How to run with all these dogs? Well, having whippets apparently induces some sort of cognitive disorder in all of their servants....we come up with similar ideas. I decided, as so artfully told by Patience, that I would attach their leashes to a belt around my waist. That way, I could have hands free running. Tada!
Now, as Patience experience tells, this sort of a get up is prone to sudden changes in velocity on the part of the walker or, in my case, jogger. I have learned to scan the horizon, looking for squirrels and bunnies that my prompt this sudden change spatial orientation. During RoadKill season (early spring) I scout out all the recent kills on my way home so that I can navigate around them on the following morning run. Nothing like having a whippet scoop up fresh (or not so fresh) road kill. The whippets tend not to want to release it, and I have this absolute phobia about touching dead wildlife. I run early in the morning, before most of the creatures are stirring to try to minimize the chances that I will become air-borne (or roadside ditch decorations).
Recently, I have not been jogging. I injured my heel (likely during one of those sudden changes in velocity during which I try to put on the brakes before I assume the horizontal airborne position). This had all sorts of fall-out. I got sick. I became depressed (see paragraph 1). Once I am off the running circuit, it's hard to get back into it because the mornings are COLD right now (or at least cold for these parts).
This week has been a good week. I am getting my groove back. I ran every morning except for Tuesday. The viral haze is beginning to lift, although the allergic cloud still has a full grip (being in my head is not fun; I am praying that those allergy shots will soon start doing more than giving me big goose eggs on my extremities once a week).
Wednesday, I took out all five runners (Charlie, Reilly, Hudi, Mati and Gabi). Having read Patience's experience, I know better than to take out SEVEN dogs. I only take five! I was feeling good. (If I am really tired I take 4 dogs). Sometimes, in my running zone, I ponder....I ponder all sorts of things....the serious....the mundane....my mind goes lots of places....that's part of what helps my sanity maintenance. I think about work. I pound out the frustrations of work. I think about nothing, too. During that thinking period I have calculated that I have more whippet weight attached to my waist than I have body weight. The dogs outweigh me by about 40 pounds when all 5 run with me.
Anyone who owns whippets will also tell you (and this may be a reflection of the group cognitive disorder), that whippets DO NOT OBEY THE LAWS OF PHYSICS. Nope. They are a very special breed. Put a whippet in bed with you, , and this sweet 32 pound of flesh suddenly weighs 150 pounds. They can not be budged once they hit a human bed. If said whippet falls asleep on top of you, it weighs 250 pounds. Put a whippet on a leash attached to your belt, said whippet can drag at LEAST 3 times it's weight in dead weight. Not selling you a bridge across the dessert on that one. I have 170 pounds of whippet attached to my waist during my jog; therefore, I have a force capable of pulling 510 pounds of dry weight somewhat permanently attached to my waist. If you didn't go read the link at Patience's site, I do think you should be beginning to understand what my morning jobs are occasionally like: sudden changes in velocity to a speed much faster than I can run, which then induces the change in orientation (from vertical to horizontal), which then occasionally induces the change in my appearance.
Wednesday morning, I was having a good run. The heel that had sidelined me for 3 weeks wasn't hurting that much, the weather was cool but not cold, the dogs were behaving. Then, before I spotted it, one of those SPECIAL KITTIES wanders out of the field. Dang it all. Nope. I am not talking about kitties that ride the short bus....I'm talking about those special kitties.....you know, the black ones with the white stripe.
The dogs start pulling. Remember that calculation?? They can pull 500 pounds and I weigh...well, less than THAT. I dig in my heels, leaning back, feeling the jarring force crush my knees, and my heel that was hurting suddenly screams obscenities at the rest of my body. The danged "kitty", on being confronted with 5 suddenly insane whippets doesn't turn around. It danged well starts waddling towards us. Great. A special kitty with rabies! Why else would a "special kitty" (SK) come TOWARDS 5 insane whippets? I am screaming "back, back!" The SK(unk) keeps coming toward us. We are slowly creeping toward the SK as my less than 500 pound frame is being unwilling dragged towards the SK(unk) which is now "wagging" it's tail. I am suddenly wondering if using my pepper spray will have any sort of deterrent effect on the SK(unk). Probably not -- spraying noxious material on a noxious animal, just means noxious. Might cause it to run at me and bite me....I am now totally convinced that it is rabid.
I summon all of my alpha bitch authority and scream "BAD DAWGS". My crew is momentarily stunned (Gabi "jeez, I think mom is really mad; maybe I should pay attention for 10 seconds"; Hudi "I never heard her sound like that; Please, please don't be mad"; Mati "momma, I love you, I love you, I'm sorry"). In that stunned instant, I manage to pull the dogs towards the Elks lodge, which, unfortunately, is a path straight into a ditch.
Now, I would have chosen another path, but I had also looked up to see a large pick up truck heading straight for us. I think he had seen the "special kitty" and didn't want to hit that with his truck (stinks them up for days) so was going to hit the crazy woman with 5 whippets -- one trip to car wash would probably remove the blood from the grill work.
In the country, men are, if nothing else, helpful after forcing your off the road. The pick up slows down, "Ma'am, what are you doing in the ditch? Do you need help." I cheerfully call back, "oh, I'm fine -- just trying to avoid the skunk! (and your 2 ton truck)". No problem.
Oh, no problem....I'm standing in a ditch. The five whippets had somehow managed to a do a rapid macreme trick on the way into the ditch so I can't move because the leashes are knotted around my body. Think mummified by leashes. It had rained the previous weekend. The ditch had about 6 inches of 40 degree water standing in it.
However, I was a) still vertical and b) not sprayed with Ode' de Special Kitty. The two ton pick up had scared the kitty into the opposite ditch. Really, I was just fine!
A Special Kitty (SKunk)
A Special Kitty (SKunk)Can anyone tell me if pepper spray will work on skunks?
