Some days you just REALLY don’t wanna run. Yesterday morning Mom woke up and made a pact with me, “We’ll get our butts up this morning and run today, and then we’ll sleep in like slugs tomorrow.” We shook pinkies and swore (just kidding, I don’t have a pinky so the pact was non-binding). Later, NotMom reminded Mom that my sister had a vet appointment, and that I would be alone all day while they were at the vet. So I HAD TO run, or else I would have ants in my pants and spend the day barking at the wind. No ifs, ands or buts… I looked at Mom and said, “I love you.” In truth, I didn’t understand the conversation, but Mom was looking at me and I like attention so I tell her I love her every time she looks at me. Mom looked back at me and sighed.
So we got up at 4:30 this morning like we always do. I laid on my back looking super cute hoping that when she got down on the floor to give me my morning belly rubs, that she might just fall asleep down there and we could stay home. But then NotMom got up, and we were busted. We both slunk off to get ready for a run. When Mom had me all leashed up and ready to go, I made myself an anchor and stared at her with the most baleful, cute eyes I could come up with. She took my picture, and then she still dragged me out the door. The truth: I do that to her every morning. But it’s rare that she ever gives in. This morning, she ALMOST gave in.
We ran to the end of the cul-de-sac, and Mom pulled an about-face. “I didn’t get to poop this morning,” she confided. “That seems like a good excuse to go home.” I looked at her with my baleful eyes again. “Mom, don’t be a lazy slug. We got out of bed, we might as well run.” So she turned back around, and plodded off on patrol. After a few minutes, I got into the running and my ears and tail perked up. Mom, not so much. She ran the whole run feeling sorry for herself and looking like a stalk of wilted celery. What a lazy bag of bones!
–Oscar the ineffective cheerleader