In an effort to try and pack three months of promised fitness into the two days left before a doctor's appointment (what? Like you never flossed like your life depended on it the day before a dentist appointment), Ruby and I have been walking with DD to school. Once she has been safely transferred, we continue on for a bit and finish our walk.
This is risky, because when Ruby gets tired and decides she cannot walk any further, she simply flops onto her belly on the ground. No warning, nothing. Then I have to carry her back home. This may sound easy, but believe me it is not. Picture carrying an unwilling cinder block that snorts. Actually the cinder block is easier because there are places to grip. I try tucking her under an arm like a football, but the pressure on her chest makes it hard for her to breathe. She hates being carried and it cripples me for days afterward so we keep our walks short and to cooler days only.
For some reason she has been SOOO excited for these walks, and hasn't gotten tired and refused to go any further. Since I have gotten rid of the extend-a-leash and got just a plain pink one that is fixed length she walks SO much better. She prances right next to me in heel position, doesn't tug at all (in fact she is more apt to trip on the slack). The weather has been nice, no broken glass anywhere or obstacles to make it unpleasant to do. Well, almost none.
Lest you think that these walks have been a cake - well - walk, I have to report that I have had a mishap. A soaker. Not just a soaker, but a mud soaker. And not just a mud soaker, but a mud soaker while wearing crocs. The irony is, not two days ago I had a conversation about nurses not being able to wear crocs any more because they are considered unhygienic (blood and other bodily fluids can drip into the holes etc.). I voiced the opinion that this was silly, and that the idea nurses go around spilling blood or urine on their feet in crocs is no more likely than in white shoes, and leather shoes would hold and hide just as much detritous and can't be washed as easily as crocs. Blah blah blah. The karma gods were clearly listening, and I have learned my lesson.
DH looked at my shoe, tsked and called me a wimp and said it wasn't that bad.
I beg to differ.