Today in the muggy 80 degree Alabama heat, on the hidden depths of the UAH campus back fields, the Eurocross race was run by about 200 plus people in Huntsville. A 5K and an 8K were being run. This was my first experience with the Eurocross and while I had planned to run it, at the last minute my daughter and I decided to just watch it as spectators. I am so glad we made that decision.
As we made our way through the wet grass to the starting line area, we met up with a friend who had just run the 5K portion of it. He was covered in mud, soaked to the bone, and out of breath. He recounted his run and relayed that while he was glad he did it, he thought this would be his last. Finding it to be a pretty challenging course, he thought he’d stick to the regular races. Again, glad we made the decision to just observe.
We watched the end of the 5K race and I quite enjoyed listening to other runner friends describe their runs. Afterwards, we made our way to the area of the first water crossings where the swollen water was at least thigh deep due to the downpours of the previous night. Already muddied by the 5K runners, it was very slick on the banks. This should prove to be interesting indeed.
Then it was time for the start of the 8K run. We watched from our vantage point along the side of the first water crossing as about 50 or more runners, mostly men, hit the wet grass running. Wearing their assortment of gear from Nike, Brooks, Asics, to Reebok, Adidas, New Balance and Mizuno, to Izumi's, Saucony to the Montrail and Vibram shoes to just plain bare feet they ran. Giving it their all, hooping and hollering and huffing and puffing, smiling, laughing to grimacing...Making me wonder again, "why do we do this??"
The Trail itself was a freshly mown path through fields looping around and then through 4 points of water crossings along the way, through some woods and up a very steep embankment, then looping again. Proving to be a challenging course especially for the first timer.
As with most of our races around here, the first runner to reach the water was Hirbo Hirbo. Way ahead of the rest of the pack, he easily crossed the water and was out of sight by the time the next racer reached it. As soon as the front pack made their crossings, we moved a few yards over to the next water crossing that the runners would loop back around to. As they began to make their way through many were already winded and some struggling.
All in all watching the race was very entertaining. We cheered them all on and in the end it was Hirbo winning with a time just over 30 minutes for the 8K victory.
As reported recently in the The Moulton Advertiserafter winning the Jesse Owens Memorial Run in Moulton , Hirbo Hirbo, told reporter Jonathan Deal he began running as something to do when he was bored just a couple of years ago.The 23-year-old Florence resident moved to the United States from Ethiopia three years ago with no running experience. It was only by chance that Hirbo became involved in running as a sport.
“Two summers ago, I had nothing to do, so I went out and ran about a half mile,” Hirbo said. “I was sore for about three days, but I came back after that and have ran ever since.”
That statement can either inspire us or depress us…Either way, I’m just going to keep on plodding forward. One foot in front of the other until I can’t anymore. And oh yeah, I remember now why we do this...because we can... :-)
Here are some pictures that I took of the runners doing their thing…
Well after signing up over a month ago, the day finally arrived for the 31st running of the Mercedes Benz Cotton Row Run in Huntsville, Alabama on May 31, 2010. Some 5,240 runners had signed up for the three races, 10K, 5K & fun run and for the Fallen Officer's Memorial Walk. The weather was overcast and a big muggy and humid.
After suffering from shin splints from “Hades” in the past, we got out our Kinesio Tape the night before and applied in the appropriate places. I looked quite the bionic woman afterward. Bright blue tape up and down my leg, strategically placed to prevent the pain that I suffer after each race.
The night before, my husband whom I think believes I have lost my mind anyway, quietly cornered me urging me to at least drop down to the 5K if I was dead set on running in this race. Oh if he only knew how those same thoughts had crossed my mind more than once. But I am a stubborn woman and I had decided I was all in.
After another sleepless night before, I woke at 3 AM to prepare for the day. My usual pre-race nerves were at an all time high that morning. For some reason I just can't seem to get a handle on them. I had a lot of anxiety over the usual issues like will I be able to stay with the running pack and will I look stupid running, do I need to drink my coffee or eat something, and if so-then what? If I eat will I get the runners trots, and if I don't eat will I be able to make it on empty. What will I wear? If it rains or I run through the sprinklers will my shirt be see through? All the usual crazy things going through my mind..
Worse still, that morning I woke up with my previously broken foot hurting me. I had not run in 3 weeks. I just didn't feel at the top of my game. I was going to run in my largest race ever going farther than I ever had in a race and I was not physically prepared after not training for so long. What was I thinking?
A friend had called the day before to ask about riding together and I really considered backing out of the whole thing then. But I told myself that I had made a commitment and I was going to see this through. My daughter and I had run the course 3 weeks earlier just to be sure I could complete it. A group was meeting every weekend morning for the whole month to train. We went. It was torture. I walked/jogged and ran it slowly and not even within sight of the others, but I finished it. My daughter stayed with me as we made our way.
But today was the day. Monday, Memorial Day 2010. As my daughter and I drove to my friends house to pick him up, I truly felt sick at my stomach. It was beyond butterflies- it was an “I may need to pull over and hurl” feeling all the way there. We drove the 30 minutes it took to get there with my husband and other daughter following behind us in the pre dawn dark. In my Nike Structure shoes and my Reebok running pants and top with my blue taped legs, I was as ready as I was going to be. But definitely was questioning my sanity at that point.
We were early and got a prime parking spot. The setups were just getting underway. We had time to walk around and relax a bit before things started jumping. It helped. As the people poured in, I became calmer and “zen” like. It took effort, but I reminded myself that my goals were simple that day. Foremost it was just complete the race. Secondly I would like to not be the last person over the finish line. Thirdly, have some fun and enjoy the race. I realize this sounded like some very low goals to the diehard competitive racers, and I must admit not my usual mindset when competing. But I had to realistic. I was undertrained to expect anything more.
Once we were instructed to line up at the 7AM start time, I went to the point near the back of the pack. Then I decided to move up more to the middle of the pack as everyone tightened up the lines. As we stood in line, the officials gave us a speech about how this was a challenging course and that only those truly fit should run it. That if you weren’t there was no shame in dropping out. Great! Just what I needed to hear when I was already feeling a bit overwhelmed. Good Grief. But stubborn and determined I held my place.
Then after the pre-race ceremonies were over, we were off. A throng of thousands literally, elbow to elbow for at least the first half mile and then it started opening up as the faster runners pulled ahead of the pack.
As I ran through the streets of Huntsville with my fellow runners, the spectators cheered us on. Hundreds of people had come to cheer on their loved ones and strangers as they each worked to accomplish their own personal goals for the day. It was such a neat sight to see and made me feel so good.
As we made our way through the 6.2 miles, we would talk amongst ourselves. I met new people and heard their short stories about their experiences that day or why they were running. Some were running for their first time, some were running their 100th time and recovering from injuries. Of course the faster runners were long gone from our area of the pack, but you felt like comrades as you ran together and chatted; happily knowing there were quite a few more runners behind us. Validating that while we might be slow, we weren’t the slowest; not that being the slowest was bad.
The topic always turned to the hill ahead; that hateful straight up hill that seemed to go on forever. I knew where it was and I knew it would take all my mettle to reach the top. Once we made it through that point, we would be half way and the rest would be relatively easy after that. As I was running I encountered four 15 year girls running their third 10K together. These girls were so funny. Ah youth… But being able to say that I was able to hang with the 15 year olds for most of the race made me feel a little better about it all. Now they may feel differently because they have to say they ran with the 50 year old. And we followed the 70 year old that beat us all…
Once we reached the bottom of the dreaded hill, someone had the theme from Rocky playing loudly to spur us on. It did inspire me to run the first quarter of it before my legs said “What you talking about woman?!!” NO WAY! So I walked the rest of the way up; at one point almost crawling it as my nose came closer and closer to the asphalt. When your car actually has to strain to get up a hill, you know its steep.
However, once I reached the top, the guys carrying the American Flag were there to cheer us on and congratulate us for our successes. The water station was ahead and a sprinkler was set up to run through to cool us down. Thank you Huntsville!! After that point, it was another smaller hill and then the very steep downhill descent. I turned it on as fast as I safely could. I reached the bottom to the blaring sounds of Alicia Keyes’ Empire State of Mind. Just what I needed to give me that extra push along. The people standing in their yard cheered us loudly and we all had a bit of dancing in the streets with the music as we went by. It was a priceless moment. Next, it was a shout out to some more friends who lived along the course way and some more cheering on. By then we all knew we were going to make it. It was mile 4 and only 2.2 more to go…
As I pounded out those last couple of miles, loudly breathing, trying to conserve that little bit for the sprint at the finish line, I was smiling and feeling that this is where I needed to be. Maybe that was that runners high I had kept hearing so much about. I truly loved the moment. This was the first time that I could remember actually enjoying the run itself. Before, the enjoyment always came after it was over.
That last quarter mile was priceless. The crowds cheering, the music playing, the excitement in the air; it was all good. As I crossed the finish line, my friends and family were there waiting and cheering me on. They had run good races and were feeling good too. My husband was smiling and proud of me also. The first person I saw was the smiling face of my younger daughter as she whooped and hollered for me; it was all perfect.As I sat at the base of a big elm tree I savored the moment. I had accomplished my goals. I had done IT! I may be slow, but I still did it. It was just bliss. I can’t describe it any better.
The day was a great day. The race was perfectly organized. The rain had held off. The crowds were huge. I saw no one injured or sick. It was just good fun!
Maybe –just maybe-there is still some kick left in me yet….
Granted I have been sore all over, but no shin splints. Yea Kinesio tape!
Today was the epitome of what Spring in the south is like. The right of passage that begins every season for me with a trip first to Lowes to find those perfect flowers for my planters. Today it was pale pink Dahlias and Purple Lavender. I felt these would complement my aromatic Star Jasmine that was in full bloom of cascades of white blooms.
We also bought some yellow Lantana to complement some red Geraniums with a splash of Purple Heart Vine around the mailbox. The vine will bloom delicate red pinkish blooms when mature.
The front shrub bed already has a mixture of Boxwoods and Nandinas with some Azeleas and purple Loropetalum from the Southern Living Collection of landscape plantings. Also in the shrub bed is some variegated Lithrope. Also in raised planters sitting among the shrubs are some geraniums. We added some additional Purple Heart Vine.
Rounding out the bed will be some Red Knockout Roses. I think this will be a nice finish when we have it all completed.
As I trimmed my climbing roses, I clipped a few blooms to bring to the table. Tucking in a little Jasmine into the arrangement made a lovely table arrangement.
I took a few minutes to vacuum the pool and check the chemical levels for the right balance of PH and Chlorine. As I performed the repetitions of back and forth with the pool vacuum, I let my mind wander to the possibilities of what might come. The clear water looked inviting on such a hot humid afternoon. But there was work to be done still.
It was time to be off to the farm to tend to the horses and chickens. Once we arrived, the smell of the blooming privet competed with the sweet smell of honeysuckle in full bloom. A friend recently said to me of this wonderful mixture that if heaven didn’t smell this way, they weren’t sure they wanted to go there. Adding to this spectacular smell was the hint of fresh mown grass. It was almost too much for my senses to take in.
After returning home, my attention turned to my goldfish pond and some maintenance there. Simple in design but so enjoyable to loll by as the fish slowly float by. Occasionally I can spot a bullfrog. This was one of my better ideas.
Later in the evening as we were grilling steaks, the smell of the Jasmine was thick and sweet in the hot sticky air off the back patio. As I entered the house through the side door, I brushed up against the pot of Lavender and it caused a release of the most fragrant delicate aroma. I love Lavender! Later as I sat on the front porch at my little bistro table, the smell from my pot of Rosemary was the perfect ending of olfactory stimulation for the night.
Now when I lay my tired head down, I will envision the sights of the flowers I have planted and those already established, the scents still fresh and lingering in my senses. It is indeed Springtime in the South. Can’t you just hear the crickets chirping and the bullfrogs croaking…
Lately there has been a lot of talk about minimalistic running, aka running barefoot or with a special shoe that mimics bare feet. I can certainly see the appeal of this type of running for some, but as an “older runner” I can’t help but believe that my minimalistic era has come and gone.
As a child I spent more time out of shoes than in them. We lived in the country and our drive was a chirt (dirt & crushed rocks) road about a quarter of a mile from the main paved road. My grandparents lived just down the way on that same chirt road. I would trot down to and back from their house no less than 10 times a day. I developed some very tough feet from those visits.
In reflection I realized that I was a runner of the truest nature even way back then. Yes I ran some competitive events when I was in my early teens and was active throughout high school. However, the most competitive events were those that included trying to beat my older brothers racing through the fields and down the road. Again, more times than not I was without shoes. Believe me when I say those fields and that road were extremely rocky and uneven. It is a major wonder that one of those many cuts that I received didn’t turn into something really bad. I have no doubt that in these days I would have contracted staff or some other horrible disease. I ran through some pretty nasty terrain and livestock area. I waded in muddy ponds and dashed through mud puddles.
Ironically it was when I was a small child of 5 and was actually wearing shoes at the time that I almost lost my foot to a horrible tractor injury. It was such a serious injury that my foot was almost severed in the middle. One doctor simply said he couldn’t do anything for me. Thankfully, I received care from a very compassionate and skilled doctor that allowed me to have full function of that foot. While I did survive, I did so at a price. Today, I have heel spurs that flair up among other foot issues. One foot is a whole size smaller than the other. I have wide feet and some major arthritis that makes me limp like I am crippled when I first get up in the morning.
Yet I still keep moving. Running is something I plan to continue until I can’t anymore. I am blessed to be able to do as much as I do. Yes the end of the day brings aches and pain and the morning is misery until I work out the kinks. But I can’t help but think about those who wish they could walk- much less run- at any age. So I will keep my complaints to a minimum.
As far as the minimalistic push is going, I say been there -done that. I leave the minimalistic push to the young people of the running world and to those who haven’t had the pleasure of the experience. These days I embrace anything that new technology can give me to make it easier for this old woman to keep on moving forward….
Recently I read an article in Running Times Magazine about running on pavement versus running on trails. It discussed all the advantages and disadvantages of both. It was an interesting read. The thing that stuck in my mind afterward though was how this whole debate could be applied to life in general.
For example, when I run I will more often than not choose to run on pavement. It’s a smooth, even path that is tried and true. An easier road- if you will- that is familiar and one that I can get in-get out and get on with. I realize that by making this choice, I can achieve my best time, without giving it too much thought or effort.
Now on those other rarer occasions, I will choose a path through one our local green-ways that will take me off the beaten trail. Choosing to go instead through the woods, up and down the steep hills, over the rocky terrain, going by and over the water. By making this choice, I must slow my pace and choose my steps carefully or risk face-planting a root. Sometimes even stumbling to my knees in the process. But when that happens, I just take a moment, pull myself up, brush myself off and get moving again. Running this path forces me to focus on the here and now instead of slapping that one foot in front of another scenario.
Can’t we equate life with this parallel? By making the easy choices (pavement) aren’t we literally taking the easy road? By taking this route we are missing out on some really incredible chance encounters.
When I choose the road less traveled is when I am truly at my best. Maybe not my best time, but most definitely my best and happier inner self. I work harder but the rewards are much bigger than any personal record on the pavement. If I hadn’t taken the “off road” experience some the most glorious views would have been missed. I would have missed nature at its most preserved state. Mostly I would not have had the opportunity to realize what motivates me to run, or jog, or hike in the first place.
Each of us has that own personal relationship between ourselves and our inner peace. Each of us knows what motivates us to want to become closer to understanding it and achieving it. For me, it is about the desire to be healthier and live longer as a healthier person; to cope with the daily annoyances without becoming postal. To strive to be the best that I can be.
That’s not to say that there isn’t a place and time for the tried and true road. Sometimes that familiar “rote” run on pavement is what I need; mindlessly running in my Brooks Adrenaline shoes can do wonders when I need to not think about anything. But by taking the occasional detour on the “off-road” trail, we literally stop and smell the roses. And to me that is very much time I have well spent!
So my advice to everyone is to go a little crazy. Have some fun. Spice it up and every now and then take the road less traveled. Try going off-road. You may be pleasantly surprised. How you choose to apply this to your daily life is completely up to you…
This week I have begun training for my first 10K. Even though I have run more than the standard 5K in my weekly runs, I usually have some resting time in between and I am not racing against a time clock and other runners. So this week in preparation for the 10K at the end of this month, I ran the course with my daughter.
The Cotton Row Run is a fairly flat course for the first mile or so but then it begins to rise into a rather steep elevation halfway through the course. The grade at the highest point is quite steep. After that steep climb you have one smaller hill heading towards Monte Sano Mountain before it turns and heads back down a sharp descent for about a mile down Bankhead Parkway. Once that descent levels off then it is back to a level course into town until the finish line back on the corner of Clinton Avenue and Monroe Street. You will pass Maple Hill Cemetery and weave through some lovely neighborhoods along the way.
For our “trial” run, we joined a group of twenty or so other runners that were also training, led by a delightful woman representing Fleet Feet Sports. Sporting my new Brooks Adrenaline shoes and my new Reebok top, I was ready to go.
I had already decided before we arrived that morning that I had a couple of goals for the day. First was to finish the course under the required cut off time. Secondly, not to try and set any records, just to enjoy the run and see if I could do it without killing myself. I knew I would be at the back of the pack and was okay with that for this trial run. Mostly I just wanted to be sure I had the stamina to finish.
With my trusty water bottle in hand, we began downtown near the Von Braun Civic Center and then proceeded down Church Street to Lowe and onward. As the other runners took off at the speed of light, I found myself struggling from the start. As they all passed me, I was surprised that it didn’t bother me more. I didn’t have any pressure on me to do anything more than finish. It was a beautiful cool morning and the traffic was light. So when I needed to walk-I walked. Once I felt ready then I ran again.
As the rest of the pack moved further away I just kept going. My resolve to enjoy and not be bothered by being left in the dust was waning. I was becoming frustrated and my stupid water bottle kept leaking. What was I doing thinking I could do this? I was still struggling with 5K’s and now I thought I could tackle a 10K?.. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
Finding myself all alone, I reached a curve in the road bordered by a hedge row feeling a little dejected and sorry for myself. Happily, as I reached the other side of the hedge row was my daughter standing patiently waiting for me. “Hey Mom. How are you making it?” she asked. So sweet that one. “Not so well I’m afraid…” I replied. “Well then I will just run with you.” she said. I protested but she insisted. Knowing she had no trouble finishing the course she said she wanted to stick with me. Probably worried I would have a heart attack. So together we trudged on with her encouraging, cajoling and sometimes ordering me along. Suck it up woman-you can do this!
About the time we reached the bottom of the highest elevation hill at about 3 ½ miles, we heard some horrific sounding screaming coming from further down the road. It appeared that some loose larger dogs had attacked a smaller dog that a woman was walking on leash. It was horrible to hear and we considered seeing if there was anything we could do, but some men had come to her aid and we decided to keep going. The dogs had run the opposite direction, but we warned some people we passed who were in their yard with their dog to be vigilant.
As we started up the hill with that hateful elevation, I really had to dig deep to make it up to the top, walking (almost crawling) pretty much the whole thing (of course). We were both quite winded once we reached the top and I was out of water thanks to that dumb leaky water bottle. Gasping, exhausted and wondering if I was going to make it, another surprise awaited me.
Thankfully at the very tip top of the hill was the sweetest, most angelic little girl standing there with a cup of cold lemonade for me. She and her brother and her young parents had graciously volunteered to hand out drinks and had waited on me to get there. She looked to be about 5 years old and bless her soul was so precious. That was the best tasting lemonade I have ever tasted. The parents encouraged me and told me it was all downhill from there. I felt that I would be able to continue after that.
After leveling off and then climbing another small grade, the road quickly did a switchback and it was a rapid descent. My daughter told me I looked like a crazy out of control hobbit running down that hill, flailing my arms for balance. I just laughed and kept going. I didn’t care; I was actually enjoying myself at that point, knowing I was over the halfway mark.
At the bottom of the hill we were back in a neighborhood and zigzaged around until we reached the busy intersection of Pratt and Gallatin and then proceeded through downtown again. Heading back towards the Civic Center, I was never so glad to see the finish line.
I had done it!! Granted I am not sure I would have persevered without my daughter by my side on that initial run, but now I know I can do it. My goals for the day were accomplished and knowing what I face, I feel confident that I can improve my time and not be too embarrassed when I run (hobbit looking or not)...
As one of the more experienced runners told me the other day when I was complaining about my poor performance as a new runner, “At least you are out there doing it!” I say “Thank you!” I needed to hear that. Thank you for once again reinforcing my feelings that runners are some of the most optimistic, encouraging people I have ever met. So to all you old runners, new runners, and any in between- I want you to know, it really does matter when you pass along a kind word to your fellow runners. Please remember that…it might just make the difference between someone continuing this sport or giving up.
Today I just want to share some beauty…After the rain and floods through the weekend; I felt we could use some signs that there is more than this to Spring…
So lets take a moment to savor the finer things in life....
Recently, when I was returning home from our farm, I found myself in a dilemma. I was traveling a road that I traveled everyday to check on our horses and chickens that lived about 15 miles from our main home. Not too many cars traveled this route during that time of the day as it was off the main road. There were a few houses on this road, but not many to speak of.
As I came around the curve at the bottom of a hill on this narrow country road, I slammed on my brakes. Sitting in the middle of the road, clearly terrified, was a puppy so young it was barely old enough to walk. My first instinct was to get this puppy out of the road before a car came barreling over the hill and squashed it. While, as I said, the road wasn’t a heavily traveled road, cars did still come by and the danger was clearly present. The poor little thing didn’t know what to do. It didn’t try to scamper away. It just looked miserably at me with the biggest, sweetest big brown eyes I’d ever seen. I scooped him up and moved back to the car. He was the softest, most cuddly creature I’d ever met. He was so small that he fit in my two palms.
Once inside I scanned the area to see if Mother dog was anywhere about. No other dogs were seen. No other cars. No one around. I did a quick visual to be sure he wasn’t obviously injured. I decided that I would start by going to the nearest house and see if this was their pup. First house I went to the sweet elderly lady told me that she didn’t know anything about the pup. The second house, the same. The third house, no one was home, so I left my name and number. Those were the only houses for a mile. This pup was way too small to walk that far, much less more than that. When I heard back from the third house, the news was the same-not theirs and they knew nothing about it, nor did they want to.
I mean what was I supposed to do? The temps were supposed to drop into the lower 20’s that night. He was alone in a road. He would either die from an auto, coyotes or cold. I would not have been able to lay my head down at night if I had left him there; even though my own words to my daughters echoed in my head “Girls, You can’t save them all”.
I had resigned myself to the fact that this pup would have to go to the pound. I had 4 dogs already and could not take on another rescue. One of my daughters works at a Veterinarian Clinic so I took it to her to check it for injuries. The Vet examined it ($$) and said it looked to be only about 5 weeks old. Too young to even be weaned. It was also determined that the little fur ball looked to be a Saint Bernard puppy. Oh Geez! Otherwise healthy, I took it home to try and find its owner over the weekend before we took it to the no kill shelter in town.
I made up flyers with photos ($$) and posted them at the local grocery stores, drug stores, banks, the library, corner market, everywhere I could think that someone might see it. I called people I knew in the area asking if they knew who it might belong to. No one claimed him. One weekend turned into a week before I knew it.
In that week, I absolutely fell in love with that little poot-head. He was the most adorable puppy I have ever seen before (or since). His personality is just a melt your heart, can’t believe how cute, how precious and sweet kind of thing… (aka SUCKER!!!) Of course everyone in my house fell in love with him. His antics are as entertaining as they get. All he has to do is look at you with those big brown eyes and you melt.
Soon a week turned into a month and this precious little stinker had firmly planted himself into our household. He was smaller than our Chihuahua when he first came. But by the months end, he was the same size. We already have a Lab, a Coon-Dog mix, a Chihuahua, and a Chi-Terrier mix. So I simply cannot believe I have yet another dog in my house. Is this what hoarding feels like? And before you send the ASPCA over to my house, let me clarify. Originally the plan was that a friend was going to take him once he had completed his shots series. The weather was still quite cold and unsettled and this friend wasn’t set up for a puppy. But that plan fell by the wayside and Harley, as he has been named (among other things) is now a member of our home. Luckily my daughter works for a Vet and my other daughter is going to college to be a Vet. We have a farm that provides plenty of room to exercise and play. But g-whiz! Sometimes it is overwhelming…
Everywhere we go with Harley, he is ooo-ed and ahh-ed over. He is just that sweet and cute. He never meets a stranger and has this annoying habit of wanting to follow anyone and everyone else. He wants to investigate everything. He is still easily frightened and hides behind my leg if he is unsure about something. He reminds me of a year old toddler. Everyone wants to pet him and thankfully he is very social and friendly. I only heard him bark for the first time recently and that was a playful bark. We joke that he looks like George Washington when he puts his ears back. When he is nervous or alert, his hair lies down on the top of his head and he looks like a balding man. His baths were quite a struggle at first, but are getting better now. He must be dried with a hair dryer and he wants to play tuck and run the whole time. Afterwards he loves his ritual of laying half in my lap as I “pick out his afro” after every bath. He lays there sucking on his “blankie” (aka a rag) the whole time….This takes a long time. And he is a pro at getting dirty, especially with all his slobber.
Every animal in my house is a rescue animal. Each has their own heartbreaking story to tell. I will give each one their own page to tell their story. But we have decided that Harley (aka Bulldozer) must have been dumped that day. Not an uncommon practice in that area. Some cruel hearted fools will either shoot them or put them in a sack with rocks and throw them into the river. I can remember meeting a car that day as I entered that road. Could it have been the “dumpers”? If so, Harley will never know how lucky he was that day that I just happened to be there at that exact time. It was obvious that he was disoriented and petrified. His inaction to do anything more than crouch lower into the road would have doomed him to certain death if a car had come over the hill. But it didn’t, he didn’t and I didn’t….so all is well for Mr. Harley D.. But shame on whomever allowed this poor dog to be out in those elements, becoming a victim of circumstances and uncertainty…
Once weighing a mere 5 pounds, Harley has gained on average three pounds a week, He now weighs almost 60 pounds, just a few months later! And is still growing!! But he is worth it all. He loves us with all his heart and we love him. He actually acts grateful..He has fit in with the others seamlessly. His favorite is our Lab, who seems to enjoy him almost as much. Our Chihuahua and he play nonstop; which is so comical to watch. Our Coon Dog not so much but tolerates him. Our older Chi Terrier won’t allow him to be too rambunctious around him but it all works.
So, we shall see what the future holds for our sweet Harley. His slimy drool slobber and all, his huge muddy paw prints aside, and his need to snuggle at the most inopportune times notwithstanding, he is a pretty neat companion. Next week he may not feel so loveable though because it includes a hospital visit for neutering….No more puppies!!!
