What do you do when you’re bored at home on a Friday? Force your less-than-enthusiastic pets to take pictures with you. Obviously.
Rusty is an adorable dog.
But he is also a destructive dog.
What can I say: dude’s got a lot of energy. That’s why I started running - to give him an outlet. But some days I don’t run. Or have time for an hour long game of frisbee. And on those days Rusty drives me nuts.
I have yet to find a toy that stands up to this dog. Not even the nylabones for “powerful chewers” - he turns them into shanks, chewing the ends to points.
The toy pictured here is a “tough toy,” rated for dogs 50lbs and over. It even had a picture of a rottweiler on the package.
LOL, NOPE.
My 40lb dog, who I can pick up and carry under my arm like a handbag if need-be, destroyed it. DESTROYED IT. It took him 10 minutes.
I know a lot of you have furry running partners. Any of you know of a chewing toy that this guy can’t demolish?
Rusty and I went for our first run since the half marathon.
And it was actually really great.
I only did a mile because, well, that’s all I felt like doing. But I could have gone much farther than that. Tomorrow I’ll go out again, I think.
It’s nice to be able to run when I want and for how long I want - not having my runs dictated by a training schedule.
Robin had the best idea ever.
oh make him a dog tag with the number of miles you have logged together and put it on his collar!!!
Done and done.
And I just calculated it out: Rusty and I have run 326.5 miles in preparation for this half marathon.
And 464 total miles of running since we first started January 2011. I’m not counting all the miles we’ve walked.
I’m going to talk about my dog now.
This is Rusty. As if you all don’t know who he is by now.
I love him.
He’s been my running partner since I started running, like, a year and a half ago.
And this dog puts each and everyone one of us to shame. Luke and I have clocked him doing a four minute mile (while pulling Luke on a bike). And after running 15 miles (while I was basically dying) Rusty stood at the door, harness and leash still on, bouncing and ready to keep going.
The only thing this dog loves more than running is Frisbee.
He’s been with me on good runs and bad runs. Always pushing pulling me forward. Occasionally he’ll slow down enough to run by my side, and nuzzle my hand - like he’s checking on me to see how I’m doing. Then he takes off again and propels us forward.
I think about all the miles I’ve logged. He’s logged just as many - only going faster and pushing harder.
If it weren’t for him, I probably wouldn’t have started running. And if it weren’t for him, I probably wouldn’t have kept running.
I’m genuinely heart broken that he won’t be at my race with me. This dog deserves a medal, too.
How Rusty get’s his exercise in when I have a rest day.
Last night I had a dream that Rusty kept fighting Bobby Flay’s dog.
I don’t even know if Bobby Flay really has a dog. But in my dream he did.
I was working and Luke brought Rusty to visit me - and he needed to go to the bathroom, so I took him outside. And Bobby Flay was standing outside (in a chef coat) watching his dog run around. We made some small talk but then realized our dogs were fighting. We broke them up but they did it again. Then Bobby Flay got really mad at me and starting chasing me.
And then I busted out some mad running skills and Rusty and I hauled ass out of there.
The moral of this story? Running really sucks - but it can be helpful in situations where you need to get away from angry chef Bobby Flay.
