

It occurred to me today, as Cosmo, T'bo and I did our Friday morning run, that I love my dog. I adore this guy. He has been the best running partner ever - always engaged and motivated. He keeps me going. We did only our 2.5 mile route - that is far enough for T'bo. He ran at the very end of his leash, as far behind me as he could get. I just don't understand this. He isn't stressed, he just drags his ass, lollygagging. Cosmo maintains our pace, nicely slacked leash, his head aligned right with my right thigh. Running with this dog is a joy.
T'bo will be returning to his home early next week. Then it will be time for Cosmo and I to up our distance and work on a little speed.
***Edited to add: Don't bother writing me about how my dog is too skinny. He's a greyhound, for crying out loud. He is a greyhound who is active and at his proper weight. And he is a greyhound that will go out and lay down a pace over six miles. Want to try to hang with him over six miles? (That is a rhetorical question because I know some of you runners could hang with him without hardly breaking a sweat, but I am talking trash to all those non-running, fat dog owners who always look at me like I am starving my dog) He only looks skinny because by comparison, most dogs are too fat.***

