Man's Best Friend, Woman's Worst Running Partner

Approximately 9 years ago I got the bright idea that as a 20 year old college student who didn't know what I wanted to do with my life, I was clearly responsible and settled enough to get a dog.  (I would like to take a moment to note that if you are catching on to a theme that I was a stupid 20 year old, then once again feel free to congratulate yourself that you are, in fact, smarter than I was 9 years ago.)  Anyway, I asked our family vet for a recommendation for a breed of dog that would be good for an apartment and also good to run with.  She recommended a Vizsla.  So, several months later when a breeder in the area had a litter of puppies, I finally got a little red dog of my very own!

Enter Dr. Vezer, DDS (doctor of doggie stuff).  Vezer is too smart for his own good.  So much so, that he could very fairly be called arrogant.  He knows whether we turn right (to the park) or left (to the vet) at a certain stoplight.  He stares at you until you do his bidding.  He sits in a chair during dinner.  He sleeps under the covers and has no problem awakening you with a punch to the shoulder if you steal said covers.  In short, he's sexy and he knows it. 

Vezer, before he needed Just for Vizslas haircolor...

And it quickly became obvious to anyone who had ever spent more than 5 seconds in the company of a Vizsla (which the vet apparently hadn't) that this breed is possibly the WORST possible dog to have in an apartment.  Good thing he was living at my parents house...and destroying their stuff.  I mean, after all, I did have a deposit on that apartment...

So that left the running.  I eagerly awaited the day that he became old enough to run with me.  Picture it, a girl and her faithful canine companion.  Running side-by-side into the sunset.  Beautiful, right?

The problem here is that The Good Doctor does not participate in activities just because his person likes them.  Nor does he lower himself to behaving while on a leash.  No, no...he would much rather be sitting pompously on your his spot on the couch.  Looking at you as if to say, "Your ignorance isn't contagious, is it?  If so, please remove yourself from my sight immediately." 

Vezer shows you what he thinks of the little person

Needless to say, runs with Vezer fell into this pattern: 1 mile of him stopping to sniff / urinate on everything in sight; 1 mile of him refusing to go ANY farther; then 2 miles of him pulling hard on the leash to get back to the couch ASAP.  It was so ridiculous that I used to count to see how many times he stopped to 'claim' things along the way.  His record was 23.  Really?  Don't even try to tell me you have that much urine.  I don't care if you are a doctor, that's just impossible.

We continued in this pattern for several years, until a torn ACL (that was not acquired during running with me) retired Vezer from any 'structured' exercise.  All this means is that he is welcome to run around and act like a crazy person with his doggie friends, but I am not allowed to run with him at a leisurely pace.  I'm pretty sure he paid the vet to tell me that.

Quixx agrees.

Being the good, responsible dog owner that I am, about two years ago I decided that it was time to get Vezer a brother.  Enter The Distinguished Mr. Quixx.  Quixx is everything that Vezer is not.  He is happy-go-lucky.  He is super clingy.  He likes to sleep belly up with his private parts in my husband's face.  He starts his day at 4 am by happily chewing on the only toy that still has its squeaker.  He runs around kicking you with your own shoe that he is carrying in his mouth.  In short, he's got the world on a string.

So I began to wonder, will things be different with Quixx?  Will he love to run beside me, soaking in every last minute of being with his person?  Will I finally get my fairy-tale ending of a perfect run with my faithful companion?  He is just getting old enough to go on those aforementioned 'structured' runs, but all early signs point to no, no, and no.  I'm starting to think that if I expect to ever get that fairy-tale fulfilled, I'm going to have to start pushing them in a wagon.  Into the sunset, of course...