Isis and I were a little rusty at dog class last night. She was distracted, and let’s be honest, I’ve never corrected her as harshly as I’m supposed to. So she can’t walk perfectly on a leash, but she’s pretty good at stay…as long as she’s on a leash. At home, it’s a whole ‘nother story…Although I did get her to down-stay on the floor when I changed the sheets Sunday.
Where she really shines is running. She must get it from Rob, because I can’t even run around in a circle in our martial arts studio. It’s pretty embarrassing. Sometimes Rob starts class with a jog around the room and I opt out. I can’t explain it, something left over from my childhood? I never ran in junior high, either. I got a doctor’s note for it, but I don’t think that really explains why I can’t jog for 2 minutes in a circle. Am I afraid my heart is going to explode, or that I’ll look stupid or that I’ll fall down? Doesn’t make sense, because I have no problem shadowboxing and a person can look pretty silly doing that. Rob asked if I wanted him to work on it with me and I said, “No, I want you to stop having us run in class.” That’s reasonable, right?
Anyway, back to Isis, who is much more interesting than me anyway. She is the fastest runner in the world. Like a damn cheetah. We let the dogs run around off-leash yesterday and no one could catch her. Best of all, she didn’t scream and cry when the other dogs were on her tail, and she actually turned around and chased them right back.
I was sure she was going to be so pooped when we got home that she’d just lie on my feet and I could brush her and apply medicine to these mysterious scrapes on her legs. But no, she was amped, and in the mood to bite the brush. It didn’t help that Rob was in the other room with a friend and didn’t want Isis in there with him, because she kept knocking their beers over with her tail.