Another Grand Decision

is handed down....

 

A Kaleidoscope of Moves

After stairmaster and what-not, i wasn't feeling all that energetic and hoped i could put an end to Nicki's pesting <nudge><stare><nudge> with an early quick-walk.  

Our usual pre-bed, night-time walk is a little under half a mile, the central part of which is comprised by an untravelled stretch of road about 125 yards long. My thought was to walk only half the length of stretch before returning home.  But no sooner had we turned the corner than I saw a Blurry + 1 figure in the distance.  Nicki no doubt smelled it....

MIA! 

As I met up with Travis, it was a jumble of fuzzy <wag><tug><wag><tug><wag><tug> around our legs.   We let them off leash and they were at it.  

For a full hour and a quarter the dogs chased back and forth the length of the stretch doing leaps, turns, pivots, jumps, feints and most of all runs...  side by side, one after the other, <turn> side by side  <feint> after <jump> <spin> <run><leap><loop><run><jump>

It is impossible to describe the kaleidoscope of moves the two dogs engaged in except to say that it was boundless for them and entrancing for us.  

The dogs seemed inexhaustible.  MIA found a sneaker sole and this added yet another level of games-manship to the sport.  Turning her head and all but waving the sole at Nicki, Mia signalled, "Chase me."  He did and when the dogs came back from the dark far end, Nicki had the sole in his mouth.  

When they had returned to  where we were standing, he let Mia clamp onto the other end.   Stare down!  But friendly.  He'd let her have it; or she'd let him have it and they are on the run again.

I've never seen two dogs play this way.  The two of them make up a single Fuzzy Synchronization powered by a love of being alive and of one another.

Quick walk ... not.  ;)

 

Geronto-Rat

Of late a some of the (younger) guys at the gym have taken it upon themselves to come over to my bench to offer weight lifting advice or to get me to force out an extra rep or two.  In another vein, a smart-alec from the interior, made a point today of cracking some joke in order to bust me up laughing and screw up my set.

Often the advice just highlights that I am not doing what I should know better.  Just as often it has entailed something new which helps me toward a better failure.  Spotting and forced reps are always useful provided I don’t pop a tendon or break a joint.

“Mascot” is too strong a term but, if the young’uns take any affirmative interest in my heaving iron, it’s a sign that I’ve gone beyond being another old fart trying to avoid a heart attack to the far more interesting phenomenon of an old fart risking one.... :)

In all events, it’s not true that you can’t put on muscle after 30....  ;)

Temps Perdus

Mme.  "Thanksgiving means nothing to me"  has passed into the kingdom.

Tout  de meme, c'est dommage tout ce qui a  été perdus.