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Walk, Don’t Run

The headline is from a sign at work. They’re all about safety there.

I ran three days in a row, that is, three out of my four days off. Then I went back to work for ten hours (sweet overtime). I was tired. Of course, every time I don’t run just because I’m tired, I regret it the next day. It rains, or my back hurts, or something else comes up, and then I’m two days without running. That said, I just could not get myself into sports bras and out the door.

I had coffee instead. Then turned on the computer intending to make my blog post. Then started thinking about my poor dog, who had been so happy to see me come home and who I was ignoring to be on the silly computer. The least I could do was take that pooch for a walk.

It was a lovely afternoon for a walk. Gloomy but not raining. I love gloomy days. I admired the trees’ bare branches against the grey sky. I always think deciduous trees are the real artists of nature. Every season they offer something different to admire.

I let Tabby pull me where she wanted to go. Down German Street towards Main. There are some cool older buildings on Main Street before you get into the downtown area. For example, the former Masonic Temple that now houses a tanning business. And of course, the Historic Four Corners. I noticed a wreath hung over the front door of the 1834 Jail and a Christmas Tree in the window. Very nice. Tabby pulled me through the little park near Basloe Library, and I was reminded about their book sale. Maybe I could check that out for a blog post later in the week.

I realized we were headed home after that. Tabby knows the neighborhood and had definite ideas about how long she wants to walk. My only concern was to keep her from jaywalking as we got closer to our street.

As we walked down our street, I saw a man walk, stop, then walk some more. It was almost dark by now, so it took me a minute to see the small animal frisking behind him. We caught up to them as we got to our house. The small animal was a tiny chihuahua. When she saw Tabby, she stopped and waited curiously. The dogs sniffed each other, but when I went to pet the chihuahua, Tabby barked and the other dog ran away. Her person picked her up and I petted her.

I said how cute she was and asked how old, and if it was a she or a he. The man said he thought she was about two. He had rescued her in California, where apparently she had just been dropped off in traffic.

“Sometimes they breed them and all they want is the puppies,” he said. Isn’t that just awful? She was a very sweet dog and so little. The man told me he had brought her back to New York thinking to give her to his grandkids, but they could not have a dog in their apartment.

“What, this cute little dog couldn’t hurt any apartment! Well, she’s lucky she has you,” I said.

“Oh, I just love her,” he replied.

We wished each other good night, and Tabby and I went inside. I hope we see that cute little dog again. I had missed my run, but the walk was nice.

2 responses »

  1. This IS one of the good ones. I like to watch the little movies you make in my head.


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