Mammal Mondays: Going Nowhere, Fast

Winter is here, obviously, and we have returned to supplementing our dog walking with a little indoor recreation. Our treadmill, which you may have read about in earlier posts, is still going strong. It’s probably the best fifty bucks I’ve spent, really.

Sherman is a short-coated mutt, one who doesn’t hold up well after about minus fifteen unless he’s running hard enough to keep warm. I do not have the lung capacity, nor the leg length, to run a border collie-boxer mix long enough to truly tucker him out or keep him from shivering. I freely admit that shortcoming. Enter our early 90s model home treadmill, with crank tension and manual incline adjustment–so manual, in fact that the only way to make yourself run uphill is to put phonebooks under the front feet.

I caught some great action shots of Sherm tonight, running gleefully indoors where it’s always 22 degrees.











The Electrician and I are grateful to have a good dog who trained very easily and reliably as a treadmill runner. My hands get extra angry in the cold, and there are days that I simply can’t take Sherm for a long outdoor stroll or I end up with raven claws.

We get an extra kick out of watching his tongue grow in treadmill photos. Go back and take a peek; I swear one of these days he’ll trip on the thing. Add the fact that his doggy face is one of pure canine joy, and the treadmill remains a cost-effective win on all fronts.

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