I ran one mile South, cut across to the park, took the dogbeast off leash so he could sniff around by the stream. He bounded into and over the stream in pursuit of a family of mallards. I hollered at him to come back. Dog ignored me in favor of sniffing an australian sheepdog's butt. After a bit, he tried to come back, but decided he couldn't swim across the stream. I ran through the shrubbery on my side of the stream, he ran along his side. We both got muddy. The guy with the sheepdog was laughing at us. I ignored him in favor of pretending to be a serious athlete in training--with a minor dog problem. Dog finally returned via a log bridge and permitted me to snap on the leash. We ran home.
I feel virtuous and pleased with myself.
Also mildly humiliated to own such a moronic dog.
I think I went about two miles--no cupcake, no coffee. Only 11 more to go.
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