I’ve come to realize that I’m terrible at splitting time between my two dogs. Or at least I think I am. I wrote last week about feeling guilty about leaving Oswald at home when I take Rupert running (catch up here if you missed it), so I think I’ve subconsciously given Oswald more “blog time” than I have to Rupert recently. But don’t worry, Rupert is still very much around and he’s still taking me for runs almost every day.
He’s not quite a year old yet, so we aren’t running super long distances, but my vet told me that as long as he was dictating the pace and the distances that taking him for jogs was fine. He also usually runs off leash so he really spends more time frolicking in the grass and swimming in various ditches than he does hard core pavement pounding.
So I thought, “Great! A way to burn off a little energy and get some training in at the same time.”
I thought wrong.
I have created a monster in my sweet, little running buddy- I’ve created a running addict.
Most runners have a running friend that is obsessed with running. Like really obsessed. The friend that won’t go for beers on Friday night because they need to log a casual 17 miles on Saturday morning, even when they aren’t training. Or the friend that runs 8 miles before they come to work at 8 am “just to get the day started”. Don’t get me wrong, I wish I was a running addict. Instead, I’m the person that goes for beers on Friday night and then bails on her long run the next day, but not Rupert. Rupert is a fool for running.
I guess it makes sense that he likes to run based on his breeding. As I wrote about it an earlier post, hounds are natural run dogs that were bred for trailing. Running is in his genes. And really, I glad am that Rupert is starting to find healthy ways to channel his energy, because otherwise he defaults to his second favorite hobby- destruction.
Thankfully he generally only destroys his own toys (which, according the photo above, have money inside of them?), but sometimes he moves on to other things.
Like chewing really, really big sticks that he insists on dragging home from the levee.
Or destroying indestructible dogs beds.
So I’ve resigned myself to supporting this running habit he seems to have developed if it means the destruction habit gets put on the back burner. And I suppose it keeps me in shape, and it is nice to have a coach that pushes me to keep pace with him. Plus, he has a really nice way of telling me “good job” when we’re finished.
So I’ll keep going for as long as I can keep up with him, but I’m not sure if I’ll ever be up for a casual 17 miles on Saturday morning.