Haven't written much about running lately but it doesn't mean I haven't been running. Summer track season is now half over and our competitions have been mainly conducted on cracking hot days, with the couple of evening meets also coinciding with very hot weather.
Training has proceeded right through summer with speed sessions on Tuesdays and Thursdays, a group run on Wednesday evenings and a long run Sunday mornings after Saturday's competition.
The speed sessions could be fourteen 400s on the university track; six loops of a 1600 metre course in Princes Park with three minute recoveries; six or eight 400 metre hills in Royal Park. Sometimes a relatively easier session such as six 600s or three eleven minute surges with two minute recovery jogs. In the heat, these sessions are arduous. Our running bunch has varying abilities and we encourage each other and re-group for the slower runners by running the recovery parts of the linear sessions in reverse until they catch up. We also trash-talk each other mercilessly.
Yesterday's competition was at Williamstown in overcast, stormy conditions. First up was the 3000 metres walk (an event I accidentally won many years ago and which I have since been unable to escape being selected, it really is an oddity but so is polevault and hammerthrowing) followed half an hour later by the 5 kilometre run. Twelve and a half laps of torture. In recent weeks I have been running 1500s and thought they were hard but the 5000 metres is a shocker.
This morning we had an eighteen kilometre run along the Yarra to Heidelberg, a beautiful location where nineteenth century artists used to go to paint (the Heidelberg School). There's an information poster along the walking track telling some of the history of Arthur Streeton.
We didn't stop to read it but I felt I was running through his beautiful paintings.
Maybe I was.
1/30/2005
Day Three.
We had to go out twice. First, during the day. The dogs were fine when I got back. I checked everything (I'm quite the detective) and found paw marks in the dust on the sill of the only window reachable from the yard. Chris had had his feet up there seeing if he could get in.
Otherwise all OK.
Went out in the evening for a shorter time. Back in an hour. Chris had jumped the low vegetable patch fence, jumped another to get out of it into the very small sideway between the garage and the side fence. He was still there. I heard his body moving against the steel garage wall. The space was so narrow he couldn't turn around. I had to get in there myself and pick him up and carry him out. He's a big dog, one of the biggest we've fostered.
Separation anxiety. They try to follow you because they cannot be separated from the pack. They are pack animals.
Blue - another anxious dog we fostered in November - had tried a similar thing at the beach house. I came back to find that he had squeezed through a space apparently no more than six inches to get under the house. This long greyhound nose was staring at me from under the house, the rest of his body still underneath!
Otherwise all OK.
Went out in the evening for a shorter time. Back in an hour. Chris had jumped the low vegetable patch fence, jumped another to get out of it into the very small sideway between the garage and the side fence. He was still there. I heard his body moving against the steel garage wall. The space was so narrow he couldn't turn around. I had to get in there myself and pick him up and carry him out. He's a big dog, one of the biggest we've fostered.
Separation anxiety. They try to follow you because they cannot be separated from the pack. They are pack animals.
Blue - another anxious dog we fostered in November - had tried a similar thing at the beach house. I came back to find that he had squeezed through a space apparently no more than six inches to get under the house. This long greyhound nose was staring at me from under the house, the rest of his body still underneath!
1/28/2005
Heat.
T. wouldn't come with me to drop off Sailor. Said it was too hot. Well, she's right, it was 35 degrees celsius and the predicted thunderstorms had not arrived.
The real reason was that she didn't want to see Sailor go. He was too much like Billy.
I dropped Sailor off at the meeting point. The 'fostering' adopters were there. They seemed fine. She had two children who made all the right moves, cuddled Sailor, were gentle with him, showed common sense, asked me intelligent questions. I do like children who ask intelligent questions. (I know immediately about the suitability of people with dogs. People with people for that matter. I spent three wasted hours of my life shaking my head in disbelief at the wedding of T's best friend. They divorced within three months.)
I'm raving. Back to the subject, which is not humans.
Melanie, from GAP, had brought along Chris.
Chris is trouble.
Chris bit a fosterer's Jack Russell, who needed veterinary attention.
Chris chewed another fosterer's 'french doors', according to his report.
Chris is three years old, won two races and is losing his fur. Stress? Stress through being in foster care for over four months now?
I don't know.
I'll let you know.
We don't have french doors. What the hell are french doors?
The real reason was that she didn't want to see Sailor go. He was too much like Billy.
I dropped Sailor off at the meeting point. The 'fostering' adopters were there. They seemed fine. She had two children who made all the right moves, cuddled Sailor, were gentle with him, showed common sense, asked me intelligent questions. I do like children who ask intelligent questions. (I know immediately about the suitability of people with dogs. People with people for that matter. I spent three wasted hours of my life shaking my head in disbelief at the wedding of T's best friend. They divorced within three months.)
I'm raving. Back to the subject, which is not humans.
Melanie, from GAP, had brought along Chris.
Chris is trouble.
Chris bit a fosterer's Jack Russell, who needed veterinary attention.
Chris chewed another fosterer's 'french doors', according to his report.
Chris is three years old, won two races and is losing his fur. Stress? Stress through being in foster care for over four months now?
I don't know.
I'll let you know.
We don't have french doors. What the hell are french doors?
1/27/2005
35 degrees, 10pm.
T. is sitting with her swollen feet in a low, wide bucket of water to which I have added ice cubes.
Sailor approaches from the right, steps his front legs into the water, licks her knees, pants hotly on them.
Goldie approaches from the left, drinks from the water. Pants.
T. is in pain but she is also in heaven because she loves dogs like nothing on earth.
Sailor approaches from the right, steps his front legs into the water, licks her knees, pants hotly on them.
Goldie approaches from the left, drinks from the water. Pants.
T. is in pain but she is also in heaven because she loves dogs like nothing on earth.
1/25/2005
Musical dogs.
I was away for a week at the beach. Just three days after Sailor arrived, the lady from the greyhound adoption program left a message on my home phone saying she needed him back straight away because a potential adopter wanted a dog for her son's birthday which was the next day or something. She also said the adopter wanted to 'foster' Sailor for a week before officially adopting.
Now let's see. Someone wants a dog sight unseen immediately because it's for someone's birthday. That's wrong for a start. You adopt a dog for the dog not because it's someone's birthday.
Secondly, she wants to adopt, but 'foster' first? That means she wants the dog on seven days free approval. Forget it, sister. That's not how you adopt anything, animal or human.
After checking my home messages, I called the GAP lady back, telling her I'd be at the beach until the end of the week. She sounded a little frazzled and had to hang up suddenly, said there were people waiting to see her.
She called back later apologising for being gruff; said she'd put the potential adopter off until next week. Maybe she found another dog for the birthday boy.
OK, it must be a difficult job, placing the right dog with the right home. There's only so many questions you can ask people when they say 'Well, I want a dog that goes with the furniture, doesn't ever bark and is guaranteed not to dig, pee accidentally in the house or attack the neighbour's cat'. When I was at the greyhound kennels a few weeks ago there was a 'return' standing sadly in one of the cages - an adopted dog the adopters had later decided they didn't want after all.
There was a further case the week before, but instead of returning the dog to the adoption program, the owners had turned it in to a shelter. Its picture was published in the Herald Sun which is the only reason it wasn't put down. Someone saw the picture and took in the dog.
In my former profession they said 'Never work with children or animals'.
That's crap. Never work with stupid adult humans would be closer.
Now let's see. Someone wants a dog sight unseen immediately because it's for someone's birthday. That's wrong for a start. You adopt a dog for the dog not because it's someone's birthday.
Secondly, she wants to adopt, but 'foster' first? That means she wants the dog on seven days free approval. Forget it, sister. That's not how you adopt anything, animal or human.
After checking my home messages, I called the GAP lady back, telling her I'd be at the beach until the end of the week. She sounded a little frazzled and had to hang up suddenly, said there were people waiting to see her.
She called back later apologising for being gruff; said she'd put the potential adopter off until next week. Maybe she found another dog for the birthday boy.
OK, it must be a difficult job, placing the right dog with the right home. There's only so many questions you can ask people when they say 'Well, I want a dog that goes with the furniture, doesn't ever bark and is guaranteed not to dig, pee accidentally in the house or attack the neighbour's cat'. When I was at the greyhound kennels a few weeks ago there was a 'return' standing sadly in one of the cages - an adopted dog the adopters had later decided they didn't want after all.
There was a further case the week before, but instead of returning the dog to the adoption program, the owners had turned it in to a shelter. Its picture was published in the Herald Sun which is the only reason it wasn't put down. Someone saw the picture and took in the dog.
In my former profession they said 'Never work with children or animals'.
That's crap. Never work with stupid adult humans would be closer.
1/22/2005
It's five in the morning. Let's play.
Well, he is only two years old. He's still a puppy.
Sailor the foster greyhound wakes at about five and runs around trying to wake everyone else up. I let him out to pee then he comes back in expecting everyone to be up and about. Well, you do when you're a pup.
Except no-one is up. So Sailor bounces up to Goldie (13 this year) and tries to get her going, thrusts a paw at her or gives her a playful nip while she's asleep on her sumptuous tartan mattress, well-stuffed and probably more comfortable than my bed.
The growl starts somewhere deep down, probably near her stomach or somewhere, and rumbles slowly up through her chest. It's like distant thunder. She doesn't even open her eyes.
Sailor steps back as if he's seen an apparition or been stung by a bee.
Then he slowly returns to his bed and goes back to sleep. It's no fun being awake and all alone.
No fun at all.
*
He has very pale pinkish skin under his black and white coat, pinker than most, it appears to me. Maybe that's why he has a sunburnt nose. Yesterday he had a sore foot as well, couldn't take him for a walk. He was limping around like a old soldier. I examined his foot, couldn't see anything. Sometimes it's a minute shard of glass or a prickle; other times they hurt themselves doing their mad minute. Sailor's mad minute lasts about four minutes, so ther'es plenty of opportunity for him to maybe strain a tendon or hurt a muscle. We usually give them the twenty-four-hour test - see if they're still limping next day.
This morning the limp had gone and he was as good as gold.
Sailor the foster greyhound wakes at about five and runs around trying to wake everyone else up. I let him out to pee then he comes back in expecting everyone to be up and about. Well, you do when you're a pup.
Except no-one is up. So Sailor bounces up to Goldie (13 this year) and tries to get her going, thrusts a paw at her or gives her a playful nip while she's asleep on her sumptuous tartan mattress, well-stuffed and probably more comfortable than my bed.
The growl starts somewhere deep down, probably near her stomach or somewhere, and rumbles slowly up through her chest. It's like distant thunder. She doesn't even open her eyes.
Sailor steps back as if he's seen an apparition or been stung by a bee.
Then he slowly returns to his bed and goes back to sleep. It's no fun being awake and all alone.
No fun at all.
*
He has very pale pinkish skin under his black and white coat, pinker than most, it appears to me. Maybe that's why he has a sunburnt nose. Yesterday he had a sore foot as well, couldn't take him for a walk. He was limping around like a old soldier. I examined his foot, couldn't see anything. Sometimes it's a minute shard of glass or a prickle; other times they hurt themselves doing their mad minute. Sailor's mad minute lasts about four minutes, so ther'es plenty of opportunity for him to maybe strain a tendon or hurt a muscle. We usually give them the twenty-four-hour test - see if they're still limping next day.
This morning the limp had gone and he was as good as gold.
1/16/2005
Hello, Sailor.
A new foster greyhound. He's black and white, two years old and is with us for two weeks. We're his first foster home but he's pretty good, knows how to walk up steps and sit on a rug.
He tries to get Goldie going but she won't have a bar of it, just walks away. So he has a mad minute on his own instead.
Sailor has a sunburnt nose and we have to apply zinc cream by day. So he's black and white with a white nose.
He tries to get Goldie going but she won't have a bar of it, just walks away. So he has a mad minute on his own instead.
Sailor has a sunburnt nose and we have to apply zinc cream by day. So he's black and white with a white nose.
1/05/2005
More lost dogs.
First it's Christmas, people go away and abandon their dogs while others buy puppies for gifts, then it's New Year's fireworks.
The dog kingdom puts up with all and keeps smiling. With a little help from some human friends.
The dog kingdom puts up with all and keeps smiling. With a little help from some human friends.
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