Posts Tagged ‘weimeraner’

Lying in the middle of the road, not sure what, if anything, was broken, still holding on to Misty’s leash, I thought, “This could only happen to me.”  It was the price of guilt.  Misty is not my favorite dog.  She is beautiful and sweet and very athletic but she is also completely out of control.  She runs, like a three year old child, with total abandon.  So I never take her for a run.  I leave that to my husband.

Unfortunately, on Sunday my husband chose to go to the gym.  As he headed out the door to the gym, I took Jackson, our other weimeraner for a run.  We ran fast and far.  We ran the trails by our house and every step of the way we were in sync.  Jackson is a great runner.  On the leash he doesn’t pull and tug the way Misty does.  He is controllable.  Misty is not.  Sunday we had a wonderful run.  It was as though the rain had subsided just for us. Everything about our run was perfect.

Afterwards, as I approached the house I began to feel guilty.  I knew Misty would be sitting at the door waiting, hoping for a run.  I hoped against hope that Blaise would be home from the gym and willing to take Misty for a short run.  Of course he wasn’t so I was faced with the sad puppy dog eyes that wrench at my heart and send my guilt gauge into the red zone.  I had to take her.

I put her leash on and explained, as though she would understand, that we were only going to run for twenty minutes.  She could run on the trails but she had to be good.  I swear she promised.  But alas she broke that promise.  Before we had gotten to the end of the driveway she had turned around and jumped on me with both paws pounding into my chest.  She was not controllable.

I should have turned around but the guilt wouldn’t let me.  I kept running.  She wanted to run fast so I let her set the pace.  She pulled and tugged and I tried to control her but somehow as we turned the corner at the front of the neighborhood, in front of a parade of cars she hit me from behind sending me flying five feet into the air.  It is funny how many things go through you mind at moments like that.  I thought about the surgeon in New York who fell off his bike and cracked his head on the curb.  I thought of the marathon I was supposed to have run that morning but flaked out on.  I watched as my feet slowly raised above my head and like a seesaw my head descended toward the asphalt.

I have no idea how I twisted or turned or how I managed to see all of the brake lights before I hit the ground with my right arm/elbow/shoulder contorted underneath me and my left hip touching on the other side.  I have no idea how long I sat in that position assessing my injuries before people started getting out of their cars, suppressing laughter or horror, to see if they could help.  I do know that all I could think is that this really could only happen to me.

As someone helped me by taking my dog and someone else helped me to my feet I realized I had been lucky.  I hadn’t cracked my head open and I hadn’t broken anything.  I was banged up pretty good but I would survive to run another day.  I would love to say I learned a lesson about guilt but I didn’t.  I am sure that one day soon Misty will once again use those puppy dog eyes and I will once again give in and take her for that promised run.  Just not today.

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