As a writer with hobbies like reading, cooking and crocheting, getting exercise is imperative. The last few weeks we’ve had to go on slow, short walks, even though my legs prefer, and need, longer walks. The short walk is about a quarter mile and the long walk is a lovely two miles. While there are a few medium routes that are one mile long, I get overruled on those due to hilly terrain or traffic. Hubs has pain from knee surgery and an old ankle injury. Maybe I was a Labrador retriever in my last life, because I love to go for walks. Short, long or in between, I’m happy with any kind of walk!
Funny thing is, I have a sweet friend who would gladly walk
with me and go on long, strenuous walks, but bless her heart, she likes to go
fast! She’ll round the corner, shouting and turning back to me, “Hurry up,” she’ll
say, “come on!” But, I don't want to hurry. Being outside is a luxury during a pandemic. We've been cooped up like chickens and locked up like convicts! This is 2021—nothing is fast—why should I be fast? I like to listen to the birds sing, I like to enjoy
the fresh air, the flowers and the all-around scenery, perhaps take photos of a
sprouting tree or the yellow underbelly of a finch. Sadly, I told her I’ll walk
with my husband, who would rather do just about anything these days, and yet,
out of the kindness of his heart, he still acquiesces to the short walk; this
is the same guy who once walked 100 miles at one time in the Army!
When I go alone, I opt for a brisk medium walk. Truth be
told, I miss walking my dogs. Pinky is a senior dog and I can’t risk some lightning
fast dog approaching her and scaring her to death. She’s been attacked before
in La Quinta (Bull dog and Rottweiler-15 stitches), and then almost again when
we lost Fiona to a big Belgian Malinois running off leash. Fiona had on a thick
camouflaged harness, looking adorable, when out of the blue, tragedy struck. I picked up Pinky and ran home screaming, “Jesus
help me!” Yup, I left Fiona and my husband to die. Fortunately, Steve survived,
but after fighting over Fiona, the dog had bit Steve’s throat while looking for his jugular!
Later, when animal control took a report, they told us they
weren’t putting the bad dog down, only placing him on house arrest for one year!
Just appalling. Sorry for the sad facts, but walking just isn’t the same
without your furry friends at your side. And, I suppose as time goes on, I'll be relegated to going it alone or mopping my floors instead. Housework sucks!
The thing is, I shouldn’t mind walking alone. After all, I’m
never alone, right? Remember that song from the musical “Carousel”, called, “You’ll
Never Walk Alone?” Here’s a great rendition:
Today, I noticed a few chalk drawings in front of the park where
Fiona and Steve were attacked. A year and half later, my head still can’t shake
those vivid, painful memories. How can something like this happen in our
neighborhood? I fight back tears every time I walk by the scene of the bloody
event and there, at my feet is a message. A chalk drawing to remind me--He’s here--wherever
I choose to step-- and wherever I intend to go.
That's sad about your dog being attacked. I sometimes go for a jog in my neighborhood, but I always walk it first to see whose dog is out.
ReplyDeleteWhere are you at that you haven't been able to go outside this past year?
I love dogs, but that dog that killed yours and bit Steve's throat should have been put down. There is no reason for a vicious animal to be loose. You are right. We are never alone no matter how many go home before us. Tweeted.
ReplyDeleteIt's a traumatic incident, so it will stay with you.
ReplyDelete