The Dog Exercising Machine

Yes, I know, I should be alongside. Age and bad knees dictate that I am inside the cab with a long, green leash so Katie can run close by every morning, for the last seven years in rain, snow and sunshine. She runs in earnest ( can a dog do that ? ) Her tongue is back against her cheek. Her ears scan and sweep and swivel around left and right listening for something ahead or behind as she gallops, trots, saunters, paces at my side. Sometimes in the dark, sometimes, just as the sun is coming up, but always in the morning, when the smells of the deer and elk are still fresh in the grass and the berry bushes along the fence. I love to see her run. I love to hear her run. I can hear the jangle jangle of her tags and her collar -- her leathery, black ears flapping against her head. her breathing and sometimes a snort or puff as her strong, wide paws hit their mark ker-plop, ker-plop. Nails dig into the ground little wisps of grass and dirt, flying. Now, her ears are back over her head and the leathery tips almost touch as her back legs push like a rabbits working in time driving her faster. When the snow is here her feet beat their rhythm in the icy white stuff. Crunch, crunch, crunch, the first marks in the snow, and maybe -- the marks, in line with the truck's tracks, there the next morning. When she stretches all the way out in a full run, her tongue is out -- far out of her mouth, almost lashing against her cheek. Her strong back legs the rounded, hard muscle under the shiny, black coat, push her along and I wonder how all those legs and feet work in synchronization as she concentrates on her task or has her eye on something ahead that she has got to get to now!