Exercising With The Snackmaster

Last evening, I ascended from my dark basement lair for my walk, and saw out the front door that IT WAS POURING RAIN. Well. That just won't do. I have budgeted time for my nightly walk, and it must be done before darkness falls, which means that I must start no later than 7:00 p.m. on a cloudy day.

I walked through the kitchen and laid out snacks for the dogs. They had a meatless plate this time, with some Chex Mix leavin's that Farmer H could not stomach, and some old Loaded Baked Potato Chips that were stale, and a couple of slices of Italian bread that was still edible, but I had some fresher. C'mon. They're not getting meat every night. They're begging dogs. They can't be choosers. They'd eat the decaying anus of a three-days-dead possum. My grandma's dog ate cooked cabbage. They have yet to turn up their sensitive canine noses at anything I've put on their plate.

With the rain pouring, I figured I'd walk around the porch. It's not the same. My strides are shorter due to the corners. But I still have a covered walkway all around to make laps, except for the portion I used to watch the total eclipse, which is a deck area not under roof. I put on my blue-and-white trucker cap to keep the rain off my face, and went out the kitchen door.

The rain had slowed to a sprinkle. That made me more comfortable, because the porch boards can be slick with standing water, and Farmer H was gone to a volleyball game for one of HOS's daughters. The minute I stepped outside, I heard Juno thumping her tail in her house. She pranced out, all excited, and headed for the steps.

That's where I usually stretch first. Jack gets all hyper and dives at me from the side porch. If I step back, he will crash to the sidewalk, off balance. Copper waits on the brick sidewalk for Jack to come down, then bites his head. Jack responds by sinking his canine teeth into the soft skin of Copper's jowls, and Copper drags him to the driveway, Juno loping after them, barking her fool head off.

The dogs were quite perplexed when I kept walking past the steps, starting my first lap around the porch. Juno caught up and got in front of me and looked into my eyes. Jack scampered around the corner to head for the pew area where snacks are served. Copper stood sideways in the area I needed to walk, then leapt off the porch onto the brick sidewalk at the last minute.

Let the record show that all these dogs had to do was lounge on the side porch until I was done walking. Then snacks would be served as usual. They should know this routine. However...Jack thinks he has to trot around the porch with me every lap. Juno gets in front of me like maybe she might persuade me to stop this nonsense and feed her. Copper comes back up on the porch as soon as I pass, to lose another game of chicken each time I come around, and jump off the porch again.

Two laps of this, and I'd had enough. I decided to take my chances in the driveway. The rain was barely a sprinkle now. Of course, with the whole driveway to choose from, plus about 4 acres of yard...Juno sat herself right in the rut where I walk.

Not having a full-body trucker cap to keep her hair dry, Juno was soggy by the end of my walk, and smelled like a wet dog. As did Jack. Copper looked as sleek as ever. I'm sure he was wet as well, but he can pull off the wet look better than my two fleabags.

I'm pretty sure I got more of a workout than on a normal dry driveway day.