Who's to say one human's goals are better than another's. There is room on the course for all kinds of runners*, and if everyone were fast then it would be too crowded for anyone to run their best race. Telling Fabiola that she should quit her 10K just because she walks a lot would be like telling Michael Phelps that he should quit swimming because he's never going to win the Super Bowl. Michael Phelps would of course tell you that the Super Bowl isn't his goal, and then put on his 23 gold necklaces and laugh at Tom Brady's 5 tiny Super Bowl rings.
Then The Man threw something on the ground a few feet in front of us. I looked where it fell, and... "HOLY CRAP!" I said. "There's a spaghetti monster sitting right next to where you were tapping your boot a second ago! Hang on, let me go check it out." The spaghetti monster was about as big around as a rope leash, and had a shakey thing on one end that made noise, and mean eyes on the other end. I knew from experience that this was called a "rattlesnake" from when Mom and I saw a bigger one
I know from experience what happens when you have love in your heart: the more love you give away, the more you get back. Mom explained to me that money is not like love. Apparently, once you give money away you have to work to grow some more for the next thing that you want. The great thing, though, is that limited money can be converted into infinite love when a stranger uses it to reach out and tell a stray that they're valuable, that they deserve the same opportunities as the other kids, and that someone cares.
This morning Mom took me to a trail that I didn't recognize, and imagine my surprise when one of my professors was waiting for us! I was so excited to see her after all these years, and squeaked like a manly cowboy for Mom to let me off the leash so that I could go knock her over. As I got close, a dog stepped in my way and said, "Just who do you think you are, and what do you think you're going to do to my Mom?"
I'm not the one with leash aggression, that's Mom! Mom is the one that growls and snarls and gets all exasperated every time I stop to sniff something in detail and the sudden braking whips her around. She's the one that throws a temper tantrum and barks bloody murder when we chase a squirrel or a cat. I don't know why she can't just chill, so I usually ignore her while she's acting out and being unpleasant.
I was adopted, and it was the best thing that happened to both me and Mom, but mostly Mom. We want to repay our good luck by helping other strays find the same kind of love and security that we have. Mom is "allergic to children," so we can't bring any home, but there are other ways to help. Instead, I have committed to raise money for Mountain Circle Family Services, which runs programs so that the stray people puppies can learn leadership through fun adventures a lot like those that Mom and I enjoy together. Just like Mom loves me, keeps me safe, teaches me about the world, and takes me to explore, Mountain Circle provides the same kind of love to the people puppies until they find their forever home.
Who ever heard of a duel where the hero gets grounded by his Mom?! "No! Mom! I can't see him!" I barked, wriggling around to try to get free and wrenching my neck around to see if he was satisfactorily scared by my spastically assertive barking. If he pooped his pants in fear, I missed it. "I'm coming back for you!" I shouted over my shoulder as I struggled to get free. "I challenge you to a duel! Just as soon as Mom lets me..."
This trail was like nature's storage room, where all the cool things to see were in one place, but all disordered and piled on top of each other in a way that made them hard to look at. There were big bits of sandstone sticking out of the ground that had holes scooped out like swiss cheese, and slabby bits of rock all fanned out like someone had knocked over a stack of pancakes, and little villages of boulders in shady glades that definitely had gnomes living behind them, and a tractor that had been used in the revolutionary war, and a patch of fuzzy white plants that looked like they were covered in frost as a fashion statement, and wildflowers in all the shades of grey, and as we got higher there were views of the mountains in every direction that you looked. We could even see off in the distance where the mountains fell into the ocean and the cool, grey fog clumped like a bad mood.
Next we met a very handsome gentleman dressed in a tux just like me. Only Oscar and James Bond can wear a tux on a hot day without panting, and this guy was struggling. But as I came past, he rose up from being a potato to say hello and sniff my butt. "It’s a miracle!” said his lady. “He was too hot to walk down the hill, but now that he’s smelled your irresistible butt, he has legs to stand on again!”