[Today’s run: 3.5 miles]
Our dog Paxton is a boxer of oversized girth. It was my job on Monday to take him to the doggie hotel. I got him loaded up into the cab of my Ford F-150 and we drove over. The place has loose round gravel in their parking area. Paxton refused to jump down out of the truck. My attempts to get him out were met with some displeasure and even a low growl.
I decided to wait him out. I left the door open and sat on the porch of the establishment expecting him to finally get tired and thirsty and jump down. But we waited about an hour and I needed to get back home to my keyboard and get back to work. So I declared defeat and we went back home.
I parked in the grass at home; his bones are a bit creaky and I expected him to sit in the truck awhile before getting out. I was going to just go on in and let him in when he appeared at the door.
But, low and behold, as soon as I parked the truck he wanted out and he jumped down in the grass and we went inside.
The wife came home from her errand and took over. Paxton was happy to jump into the back seat of the Lexus and had no trouble getting out, I’m told, at the same place we had been less than an hour previous.