Turning a New Leaf

Sometime within the past two years my family has officially become categorized as: 1. runners 2. dog people The latter is hilarious because I, an active member of my family, am still categorized as "not a dog person." Exhibit A: The rest of the clan convinced me to take our new dog Rocky for a run when we first got him in the summer of 2010, which looked like this :

So you can imagine my hesitation to take Rocky along on my run this morning during my 10-day NYC getaway amongst the rolling hills and fresh-cut lawns of Western Mass. But with my parents working, and my teenage brother still asleep like most of his species who haven't seen a single-digit a.m.-hour since school got out three weeks ago, I felt an obligation to our medium-sized brown and black dog. Yes, that's his exact breed. Rocky looked at me with his cute little face with those pleading eyes saying "Please take me with you." I couldn't help but relate. There are times cooped up in my apartment, cooped up at work all day when I look at myself in the mirror with those same eager eyes and beg myself to take myself out to play. We look so cute and innocent, like this:

So out we go. I feel brave. I feel up for the challenge. I feel like I'm doing a good deed taking this rescue dog out for a run all by myself. This ought to clear my name off the bad person list for not liking dogs in the first place. Let alone provide a good workout. At the edge of our driveway though, thoughts of our previous running experiences flood back to my mind...and his. All together our previous runs add up to about 100 yards because Rocky, being a rescue dog, is a bit scared to leave the house without my mother. A bit hesitant to let someone else take him for a run. I drag Rocky, pulling on his leash, afraid I'm choking him or will yank his head off. Is that even possible? Now I'm pleading. I'm begging. And neighbors are staring. I look like I'm stealing this dog. Back on the bad-person list. "Rocky, c'mon!" I beg. "Girl, No!" he begs. "Rocky, let's go!" I demand. "Girl, No!" he demands. "Dog, YES!" I declare. "I am the human here!" A determination comes over me. Rocky and I have known each other for two years now. There is really no excuse for us not to trust each other. No excuse for us to be afraid of each other. No excuse for me to be having an argument with a dog. So I tell him this. I tell him that if he expects to be a part of this running, dog-loving family, he's gonna have to man up and be a runner today and I'm gonna have to woman up and love a dog today. And with determination in my voice, inspired by watching the Olympic Trials last week, something inside us both decides that today will be the day where Jodie and Dog shall run together as one. I drag and tug a little harder. He suddenly gains 30 more pounds and glues his paws to the street. I tug a little harder. One paw up. Two paws up. He inches forward. I start up with a jog. He trots. And it takes us ten minutes to make it down the quarter mile length of our street, but he is staying with me. The moment of truth approaches as we hit the main street. But like the loyal companion he is stereotypically supposed to be, Rocky holds his head high and ignores the little voice in his head and continues trotting with me. We break into a run. Jodie and Dog. Dog and Jodie. He's a bit slower than my normal pace, but I'm also getting in an arm workout pulling him along. We only run two miles together. But I know we've really run to new lengths here. We've made a lot of progress today. I'm more proud of him than I am of myself. A satisfaction felt by mothers and coaches and Dog Whisperers. "Good job, Dog." I say. "Good job, Girl." He says. And Girl and Dog sip and lick their respective waters. Ready to face the rest of the day a little bit braver. Disclaimer: It is strongly advised that you do not get any idea that I have changed and now like dogs after this experience. I will not take other dogs out for runs, nor walk with other dogs, nor pet other dogs, or warm-up to them sitting next to me on a couch, or call them cute as they jump all over me with their slobbery mouths. Rocky would be jealous.