Last night when I got home from class, I still wanted to fit my run in, so as I laced up my shoes and Scooter was bounding around my feet, I asked my husband: "Should I take Scooter with me?" Scooter hasn't been on a run in months when I tried it once before without much success, but I decided to give it another go, so I put him on his leash and we were out the door.
He was so excited at first that he ran in circles and ran into the back of my legs twice, nearly knocking me over. But after the first two blocks, he settled into a comfortable trot. Scooter is not conditioned to run long distances -- he can go for short bursts at the dog park, but otherwise, he doesn't do a lot of running -- so after 1 mile, he was looking pooped. I turned around and headed back to the house, and once he knew we were going home, he kicked it into high gear.
We sprinted almost the whole second mile (had to stop for him to poop -- I can sympathsize, running can inspire the bowels -- and once a leaf blew across our path and scared the bejesus out of him, and twice he came to a dead stop to sniff something and I had to hurdle over him); it was the fastest two miles I've done in a long time and probably some of the funnest two miles I've run in awhile.
Watching Scooter run is so funny because he has a look of pure joy on his face when he's running. It made me feel refreshed about running, and I felt the same sort of joy as we jogged back to the house. Sure, I went a mile shorter than I orginally wanted to fit in, but it was fun going with my Scoot-Scoots; maybe we'll go again together soon.