This is the pupper, Stanley Dog. He is seven years old. We got him when he was 9 weeks old, when we were renting, before the condo, the wedding, the kids, the house; a couple of jobs… and two marathons ago.
So Stanley is our (furry) first born. And like any first born, he has a very special place in our hearts. When times got tough during the recession, when my husband and I didn’t know if we would make it, Stanley Dog always gave us something to smile about. And now we have… so much. An embarressment of riches, as they say. All in a short 7 years.
But in dog years, seven is nothing to shake a stick at (though it must be said that Stanley prefers bones to sticks). He’s no longer a pupper. I’m sensitive to the effects of the passage of time on him. With life being what it is, Stanley’s been short shrifted the last few years. It’s sad but true. He’s small, and he’s a grump, but he’s smart as HELL. And he’s the BEST DAMN DOG. Period. Now if only I could get him to remember he is a dog… I think he forgets.
As you can see, Stanley and I have been hitting the local trails. In Ye Olden Days (before kids), Stanley was a pretty good trail dog. He always stayed close to his people when off leash. He kept up. He’s really happiest nosing down a trail. But how would my lazy little pupper hold up on a 10;30 min/mile trail run? On Monday we decided to give it a go, and wouldn’t you know it, Stanley performed LIKE A CHAMP! Granted, we only did two miles of trails, and we drove to the trailhead. What can I say, I’m a softee.
He has to build strength and stamina just like the rest of us, one paw in front of the other. Here he is, snoozing afterwards.
What’s next for me? I’ve got two trail races on the calendar, and one 50 mile bike race:
And a pirate-themed 4th birthday party bash in the works. Argh, matey! Oh, and a fifth wedding anniversary to contemplate. The fall is such a crazy, beautiful time. Glad to be a New Englander. Glad to be a wife and mom. Sometimes, I’m glad to be a lawyer. Always a runner!
And Prozac. Thank you, Universe, for Prozac.