When Cathy Met Harry

This morning started off like any other morning – get up, get dressed and then out the door for a run behind Hawker and through the Pinnacle nature park. It is darker for a lot longer in the mornings and lately it has also been a lot cooler. I passed several walkers and one guy out with a big, white, fluffy dog bounding along and who fortunately was still on a leash – he looked like he had a lot of love and licks to share!

There were the usual hills and downhills and rocky bits underfoot threatening to trip unsuspecting runners. Note – I have not done a CJ for 2009, so I’m starting to feel very smug with myself. Passed a group of kangaroos grazing, scratching, staring at the mad female runner (that’s the impression I get anyway when I run past them), taking a wide berth past the rather large looking kangaroo grazing near the path I was taking. He, however, just raised his head, had a look and returned to what was obviously far more interesting – eating.

A little loop at the top and back down the side of the nature park before coming to an uphill section I had run earlier. Coming up the hill was the guy walking his boisterous white fluffy dog but this time the big white fluffy dog was not on his leash. The dog saw me and with tail madly wagging, legs and paws going in all directions, tongue hanging out, he bounded up to me and almost knocked me over in his unbridled enthusiasm. Somehow I managed to stand my ground but one of his paws pulled my shuffle ipod off my waistband, which in turn disconnected itself from my earphones and one little silver shuffle ipod went flying through the air. We, the dog and I, watched as the shuffle landed to earth about 2 metres away and then it was on – who would get there first. Me or Chewbacca.

“Harry, stop……Haaarrrryyyyyy!” – this from the owner. So the dog’s name was Harry. “Hhhhhhhaaaaaarrrrryyyyyy”. Futile exercise. Harry was focused on getting my shuffle, and so was I. We both scrambled for the tiny silver item and for a second it looked like the shuffle was going to disappear down Harry’s throat but I somehow managed to get between his mouth, legs, tongue and the shuffle and rescue it. It was dusty and damp from doggy slobber but it still worked. Harry’s owner breathed a sigh of relief and managed to retrieve his overactive, boisterous, rambunctious dog, apologising profusely and possibly wished the ground would swallow him and Harry up. Poor guy! Harry, meanwhile, thought it had been such a great game and that he had made a new friend for the day. Then we parted ways – I headed up the hill and on my way home. Not sure which way Harry and his owner went.
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"Success is the sum of small efforts, repeated day in and day out"

- Robert Collier