I began my day saying, "Okay, it's been six weeks," which it has, and I started the morning by hitting the trails for a two-mile run - the first romp since Henry the Hernia and February. Actually, it's the first run since the one that put me over the edge.
At night, I drove up to Monroe to meet the new pooch and to take him for a three-mile walk on the bug-infested, coyote-lined trails that surround a lake eleven miles from my home.
Jake is an attention-grabber. "Me," the dog says, "I'm important, too. What about me. I said Me. Me. Me. Me. Love me. You know you want me in your lap and to dig your nails into my ears so you can see me grimace."
He really is a fantastic dog, and once his barking subsides, he's a total cuddle and human-enthusiast. Definitely a canine that doesn't like to share the room with anyone else. "I'm here, too," he lets you know. "Let me lick your face, bite your shorts, and nudge you in the leg. I have my needs, too."
I managed to get some plants into Mt. Pleasant, as well, so I guess I can say I am entering the weekend with a sense of being ALIVE again. I'm not 100% recovered, but I have pep in my step, like Jake, all over again and that feels wonderful.
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