I’m Monte, and yesterday was my eleventh birthday.
I really don’t understand birthdays, because I’m just a dog. I got a few extra treats and some ear scratches, which I enjoyed. The best part of the day, though, was that Rich and I did our first really long run of the year together.
I haven’t been able to run very well lately. A while back I started limping. We went to that horrible vet/doctor place and they found something called a tumor on my leg. They took it off and I heard them say everything was okay, but I still limped for a long time. I didn’t worry about it because dogs don’t worry, but Becky was kinda scared. I still wanted to go running with Rich and he tried to take me, but when I limped he went short distances and really slow.
I think he figured our running days were over, and I could tell he was sad. I tried to keep going, but the limp kept returning. I didn’t care, but Rich wouldn’t let me run very far like that.
A couple of weeks ago Rich said I looked better. We still did short runs, but I wasn’t limping at all and I even sprinted a little.
Then yesterday we did our normal route, all the way around the church. I got to check out where that pesky fox hides out sometimes behind that one tree, and I barked at the silly little yappy dog. I was a little tired and we had to slow down, but I’m pretty sure Rich didn’t care.
I think when you go with friends, it’s about the going, not about how fast you go. Rich told me we’ve been doing this together for nine years. Is that a long time? It’s all I can remember, and it makes me happy. It makes Rich happy, too.
I’m glad. It’s my job to take care of him.
Everyone should have a job taking care of someone that makes them happy.
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