Pest fitness

This morning, not yet bright and early as always, cause The Pest is an eager riser, I let him outside into our backyard to do his usual morning thing. It's a grassy, spacious yard with lots of room to run and play, annoy the squirrels and manhunt a tennis ball. After I'd made a pot of coffee, filled the water bowls and metered out the dog chow, I looked out the window to check on his progress. He was lazily lying on the deck, head on paws peaceful and drowsy. My heart melted at the sweet sight of him. I thought Awwww, poor sweet little thing, surely he'd be much more comfortable taking his nap on the carpet inside the house where's it's airconditioned. So slowly I opened the door and let the poor sweet thing into the house.

Poor sweet thing ambled up and stretched long, mosied through the back door and then walked a circle around my legs. That must have wound up some internal spring because then he took off running into the hallway and foyer. The throw rugs were shoved up in corners like terrified pedestrians as he blurred past again, his feet going Chugga-Chugga-Chugga-Chugga on the hardwood floor. The Pest dashed in then banked up the living-room wall ricocheting into the dining-room, a rocket around the seating for eight. Accelerating on the turn, (how could he pick up anymore speed??) he was a mere light signature through the family room. The windows rattled in their sills, sofa cushions mere flying casualties, floor boards lifting in his wake. He launches over an easy chair and rearranges the coffee table. His tailwind kicks up ashes from the fireplace. Two frantic zip-zip figure-eights in the hallway later, he drops down at my feet, his chin on his front paws, his bobbed tail giving me a thumbs up, and his tongue flung out like a red carpet at the Oscars. He's taking his bow. TA-DA!

Our vet is concerned that The Pest doesn't get enough exercise. She should see the track marks on my wallpaper.