I’m reaching out to you before Mom tattles on me. I think she’s pretty mad, so if she shows up before you finish reading, just hide me somewhere. The Rat Rod will do.
I’m very sorry about what happened out on the trail last week. I didn’t know that her knee was hurting before we started our run and that it was going to end like it did. What’s a torn meniscus anyway? I didn’t understand when she hollered at me about it. Can I sniff it? Pee on it? Does it taste like bacon?
You see, this whole thing is her fault. She’s been neglecting and forgetting our regular runs together. And, you know how I am when she turns on that blasted Garmin after a long time off. It beeps, she jangles the leash and I. just. get. so. excited.
I’m just a sweet and cute dog with no place to go and nowhere to be unless it’s with you guys. She’s slowing down and apparently those knees just ain’t what they used to be. Does she still think she’s 20? OMG…imagine how old she is in dog years!!!
How I am supposed to resist the bunnies, the squirrels and ankle-biters who dart out on the trail? You always taught me to stand up for myself and those little jerks annoy the heck out of me. YOU let me chase the squirrels…why can’t mom just let me go and be free? She’s always been the fun-eraser in this family.
And, in my defense, I didn’t see the tree. The squirrel and I went left and she went right still hanging onto my leash. Who knew that a person could bounce down a hill like that. I don’t think the scratches will scar. Well, except maybe that one on her head. Yeah, that’s gonna leave a mark–the tree was pretty big.
Anyway, if she comes looking for me, just pretend that you haven’t seen me. I’ll hang out in the garage until the storm blows over and I’m forgiven.
Don’t forget to feed me.
PS: You wanna go for a run? Looks like it’s just gonna be you and me for a while.