May 17, 2010
First things first--thanks for the running vibes on Saturday. I'm happy to say that I ran 16.33 at a 9:15 pace. I'm way good with that.
Second thing. Do you remember, back in the day when this blog was The Lawsons do Dallas! instead of The Lawsons did Dallas!? Maybe not.
Anyhoo, way back then, the tag line under the title was something to the effect of "Pants are Overrated." It had to do with the fact that I was a very lazy mother and never put pants on my two-year-old James.
Welp, I might have to revive that tag line. Get a load of this:
My dog is old. Ten years old to be exact. And my ten year old dog? Let's just say she has intestinal issues.
Once or twice a week she'll wake us with her harried pacing in the middle of the night. Some dogs whimper, my dog walks around like a stressed out college professor. When you hear her toenails clicking on the laminate floor in the den it means she has to go. Immediately.
On Saturday night, I heard the infamous clicking and without hesitation I popped out of bed, grabbed my coat, leashed up the greyhound, and took her out to do her explosion. She pooped in the woods and instead of heading back toward home, she kept muscling forward. She obviously had some more business to tend to.
I followed her down the street, sleepily tripping over the toes of my husband's slippers, saying things like, "What time is it Grashie? I's so tired..."
When we got all the way to the end of the cul-de-sac, Gracie paused to poop and I stood in the moonlight, trying to make out the fuzzy numbers on my digital watch.
Gracie finished her job and promptly took to tangling my wobbly legs in her extra-long leash. I bent down to free my legs from the impending knot, and that's when it hit me...
I wasn't wearing any pants.
Yes, I was definitely wearing my winter coat. But pants? Not so much.
What can I say? It was the most refreshing walk I've had in ages.