Dog owners are a little crazy. I understand their passion. I have owned two dogs but I will never own another; it is too difficult when they die. And they are expensive. You could own a couple of good kayaks and an aluminum canoe with the amount you spend on a dog in a year. But this blog has little to do with the canines. It's the owners and their little bouts of insanity that cause me to put pen to paper.
An older neighbour dropped by and told me this story of woe. "My neighbour is going to build a 2 story garage. The second floor will be a granny suite. We petitioned the city to stop construction and we lost. My daughter and her little white dog live with me. He is a good dog. We don't want a 2 story granny suite beside us. Eventually granny will die and kids will be the occupants. We decided to move and we looked around for places. Some were too small. Some were too big or too expensive. We came to the conclusion 'WHY SHOULD WE MOVE? I MEAN WHY SHOULD MY DAUGHTER'S LITTLE DOG BE FORCED TO MOVE AND MAKE NEW FRIENDS?'"
A dog has friends?
Maybe. But, I doubt that the dog cares where it lives, as long as it lives with its owner.
People who treat their dogs like humans make me laugh; in a good way. I echo Johnny Depp who said “The only creatures that are evolved enough to convey pure love are dogs and infants.”
Dogs are faithful creatures but they don't worry about "friends" or the future. Their happiness lies in being fed and petted. They don't fret about problems such as parkinson's.
And that, my friends, is what is called a "segue". Granted it is not a very good one, but I promised to write about our dark companion, so here goes.
If you haven't already done so, you should read Michael's comment on my last post. It talks about the benefit of intense exercise in our fight against our common enemy. I have always believed exercise is our best weapon, so let me give you this glimpse of my routine last week.
Sunday - run the tread mill - 2.3 - 2.5 miles in a half hour using speeds of 4 to 6 mph. I do short bursts of 6 mph and my heart rate soars into the high 170's to low 180's. I take a 60 second break and it quickly returns to the 130's. After that short rest, I aim to keep my rate in the low 150's. I hit 6 mph usually twice in the 30 minutes I devote to running. At the conclusion of the exercise, I am sweating buckets but, as they say, "nobody ever drowned in sweat" and I feel good.
Monday - One hour of exercise using 10, 12, 15 pound barbells, large and small exercise balls, bosu ball with black rubber tubing for balance and strength, a bullworker and a grey rubber exercise band. I don't get as intense a workout as I do on the tread mill, but it is still good and at 69, I look better than I did at 39, if you don't see the red spots and other barnacles of life.
Tuesday - half hour on the treadmill, a little slower, mostly 4 mph with occasional 5 mph. I cover about 2.1 miles.
Wednesday - repeat Monday
Thursday - day off
Friday - repeat Sunday
Saturday - I make a choice of running or exercise and occasionally, I use the stationary bike for 45 minutes at moderate speed.
The Result - touch wood. I am into my sixth year with no great change in condition. I was at the neuro's office on Tuesday. The appointment lasted less than 5 minutes. When he finished a cursory examination, his diagnosis was, "You look good. See me in 6 months" I left feeling pretty darn satisfied. I have lived with this condition for 5 years and I feel normal due, I believe, to exercise.
All this talk about elder exercise reminds me of Ellen's joke about her grandmother who started walking for exercise when she was 60. She just turned 96 and now they don't know "where the heck she is".
BTW - I had actually signed that petition. I had forgotten about it. It seems we lost. The granny suite will be built. There goes the neighbourhood (or, if you live south of the 49th, "neighborhood")!
A bientot.
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