This is me
rolling in laughter at the Mrs and her fitness regime, which in my doggist
opinion is not working. I intend to get
her walking more and more steps. Every
morning racing down the hill for my walk I do not have to do much encouragement
as she is fairly brisk. We walk around
looking for sticks, balls, smells, evidence of night visitors and then we walk
back up the hill but believe me that is when the ‘fitness’ comes into question…
All the stick
throwing, collecting spoor (mine), and path meandering means her energy levels
for climbing back up the hill are already spent and towing her behind me is
fairly hard work. We arrive on flat
ground again only to have the delicious silence broken with heavy breathing, a
heated red face, bending double with hands on knees and instructions to “wait a
minute”. I have to turn away and feign
investigating a nearby scent so she cannot see the amusement on my face. After “several minutes”, we can resume
upright again and stagger home where I am reduced to unmitigated mirth again
tinged with relief that we made it. If
she thinks this one walk a week is working I am a poodle’s topknot!
My mission is to
reduce the unfitness and spruce her up a bit so that she can keep up with me on
the hill climbs and reduce the drag on the lead as it is giving me a pain in
the neck. Progress is slow and steady but
if I get too barkingly encouraging and start pulling her she gets a bit sharp
with the reprimands. Gently does it with
nudges against her legs, the lead in my mouth and a wistful look on my face she
eventually succumbs and we set off on another exercise, oops, I mean walk! I try to remain straight faced but heard her
tell the Boss the other day that she was sure she caught me laughing when we
returned from a walk – the Boss and I exchanged a cautious smile as he commented
on how fit he thought I looked! Ha! What
a tactician.
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